


First as a Tragedy, Then as  a Comedy

by Prisioux



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Fic, F/M, It gets crazy, Ressurection fic, Revenge, Stark bashing, anti dnd, brainchild of my weirdwesteros series, first two chapters are serious, for targaryen fans, gave me headaches trying to fix season 8, it starts serious then goes downhill, please read the tags and notes, the other chapters are bonkers, this is an experiment, very cracky fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21779062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisioux/pseuds/Prisioux
Summary: Daenerys is rescued from the brink of death by Drogon and has many revelations about her true mission. What she will do next will finally bring balance to the Magic- and mend her heart once and for all."A hero is someone´s villain."Tragedies also can become a basis for comedy.Headcanon: the end is Samwell Tarly delivering Tyrion a book called " A Song of Ice and Fire". Samwell Tarly hates Daenerys. He is also not a maester because he did not finish his studies. He is also an oathbreaker and deserter of the NW.So, why the hell should we assume he is telling the story as it happened?The errors, retcons, OOC present in season 8 can be explained when we see the events on the screen as a retelling in the words of Samwell Tarly.This is an experimental work. The first two chapters will deal with a rational book!canon and historically accurate ( as much as possible?) analyses of the events of season 8.The third and fourth chapters will explain the same events using comedy and deal with revenge-seeking Daenerys and Jon as they wreak havoc in Westeros.LotR xover!!
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 30
Kudos: 70





	1. Part 1- Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 8 was a retcon they are trying to sell us as a carefully planned work of art we peasants were too dumb to have realized.  
> This is not a theory, as much as confirmed between the lines fact.  
> Well, season 7 was leaked online on reddit months before it aired. people went bananas not believing that the events reported would actually happen as it was so bad and so cringy. Their foreshadowing for season 8 was so...obvious. We dragged them for months until the thing aired and...it was exactly how it had been described.  
> This leak was a pain the ass for the producers. They admit they wanted nobody to guess- and people already knew.  
> So...they went back to edit room, took out two VERY IMPORTANT scenes for season 8 plot:  
> Cersei losing her baby and Sam and Gilly discussing the Azor Ahai/PtwP prophecy.
> 
> People, those scenes were filmed. Producers and directors only cut scenes that are redundant to the plot or that are fillers, but those two scenes were key scenes for future plotlines, so the conclusion is that they only cut them because they decided, last minute, to abandon those plots.  
> Now, about Daenerys. She has been changed into a more badass kick ass girl since season 2. This does not count as foreshadowing to madness for many reasons, but mostly because they were changing other characters too depending on the actor´s abilities. It started with Cersei. ( the list goes on with Varys, Tyrion, Jon, Sansa.)  
> Those signposts were not there because Daenery's actions were always framed as legitimate in the worldbuilding and her change in personality in relation to her book counterpart was also not a particular cause for concern for the audience because among book readers, we knew they were doing it to others too.
> 
> Jon Connington is the one who has PTSD about hearing bells and a regret of not burning a city to the ground in the books. Cersei is the one who would be trigged by bells and by the loss of a child she expected to be her last on TV. Daenerys has had power before, and has not had power before, and she has lost a fucking child and a husband. To suggest she would go nuts because of bells or because she has lost everything sounds unlikely and makes me think that they simply gave her plot points that belonged to other characters, as shown above.
> 
> Besides, DnD are pushing really hard this notion that they had to be architects and that everything was planned and that it was all there. Well, there was not because by season 6 they came ou saying that Dany was not mad and would not become mad...then she just did?
> 
> Why? Because it is a retcon.
> 
> and look at this answer:
> 
> “How long does the writing process usually take?
> 
> WEISS: It’s hard to say with this one especially, because so much of the endgame is stuff that we’ve been discussing for at least four or five years, if not longer. So a lot of the pieces have been put on the board years ago. You could go back to season 2 and some of these ideas started to come out. But the actual writing process, when did we start doing the outlines?”
> 
> Weiss does not know exactly when they started discussing the “ endgame”, but he is sure you can come back to season 2 and see some ideas there, which of course does not add up, except if they were retconning the whole thing because as the conversation they had with GRRM at Santa Fé about the endgame, by their own admission, happened between 2013 (before season 4 in 2014) HOW THE FUCK CAN THEY SAY THE IDEAS HAD BEEN IN PLACE IN 2012 when season 2 was filmed and aired??  
> source: https://time.com/4791793/game-of-thrones-season-7-david-benioff-d-b-weiss/
> 
> So, yeah...the only thing we know they took 100% from GRRM is Bran as King ( and even that...what kind of King? what kind of Throne will Bran sit on?)

At the heart of Old Valyria, among its ruins, a huge beast laid the body of a beautiful woman atop the highest mountain.

As the lava erupted from within the bowels of the Earth, The Fire Princess heart was healed.

The dragon, her sole protector, breathed fire into her. He knew, by instinct, that his fire, his love, would not burn his mother.

Her blood, almost completely cold, warmed up again.

Her eyes, frozen with surprise and anger, were now heated pools of deep violet fury.

Daenerys Targaryen woke from her deep sleep.

She would never sleep again.

***

There were practical concerns worrying Dany.

She knew she needed to stay. Old Valyria had healed her.

Daenerys would not be alone. She had Drogon. He was her only and true friend, the one who would never give up on her, never betray her.

However, they would not be alone for long.

The two heartbeats inside her belly would be born- this she was sure- and she would have to protect them.

Had it been just her and Drogon, Daenerys would have not been so troubled by secluding herself. The land was fertile from the constant volcano eruptions and the climate, an agreeable summer. The trees were heavy with edible fruits Daenerys could pick with her hands...the crystal water of the near river was as pure as the melted snows of The North...and Drogon could hunt all he could afford to eat without a care.

As the days went by, Daenerys and Drogon scouted the area. They settled in this destroyed farm, where a perfectly conserved stone cottage remained. There were utensils she could use for her own survival, but babies would need all sorts of things she would not be able to find there- civilization included.

Gold, dragon eggs, an infinity of swords, daggers, jewelry...this Daenerys had access to. At the destroyed Manse of dragonlords of Old, the vaults were open for the taking.

Something deep inside Daenerys told her those lands belonged to her family. Viserys had told her once, had he not? The Targaryen holdings were located at the Lands of the Long Summer, a lush and forever in bloom region at the center of the Valyrian peninsula.

Daenerys had finally returned home.

***

North from those lands, there was Mantarys, the only city of Valyria not touched by the Doom. When she had been made herself Queen of Meereen, Daenerys had tried to find friends there.

But the Lords of the place had allied themselves with the Yunkaii and killed Daenerys messengers.

Daenerys pondered. It was the closest city, and a place nobody judged worthy enough of mention. She could not hope to establish herself there...but to shop for supplies? As long as they did not see Drogon, she would not be discovered.

***

Daenerys stayed in Mantarys for just one day and one night. The seamstress worked fast to deliver her orders- simple orders of everyday dresses, tunics, and cloth for the small ones- and she ate more than her fill of bread, cheese and pies- stuff she could not hope to find in Old Valyria.

As the weeks passed and the results of her hard work began to show- the cottage now looked like her idea of heaven, a red door she herself painted, and lemon trees on the backyard- Daenerys allowed herself to smile again.

Even though she was thankful for this second chance, Daenerys anxiously asked herself : why? 

The last thing she had ever wanted was to be compared by her father, the Mad King- and that was exactly what people in Westeros would say of her. That she was mad. That she was a killer. That she was an evil, bloodthirsty queen.

She knew it was not true.

Daenerys never wanted Power for Power´s sake. She had stayed in Meereen to make sure what she had accomplished- freeing the slaves- would not be wasted. Astapor had reverted back to the savagery but in a couple of weeks after she left. She had enemies everywhere, three growing dragons and thousands of people to feed.

She was dutiful to a fault and wanted to prove herself. Now, looking back, Daenerys saw the folly of her good intentions: had Mirri Mars Duur not taught her anything?

It was not the absence of gratitude that had led Daenerys to burn the witch, as it was not the absence of love that had led her to burn King´s Landing, and yet, she could see how people would perceive it this way.

Could she really blame them for not understanding her?

Daenerys had been a girl when she married Kahl Drogo. So unhappy she was at being...taken by force every day, she contemplated suicide. The fire inside her burnt; she would live. And thrive. She forced herself to love Drogo, which she was successful, and to embrace the Dothraki ways, which proved to be much too difficult for her.

When they raided the Lhazar and Daenerys was confronted with the reality, she wanted to stop. She did what she could. She did not know any better. In this, she had to agree to Mirri Maas Duur- Daenerys had not saved her but condemned her to a life not worth living.

However, who was Mirri Maas Duur but a woman grown, an adult, educated in Healing and practitioner of Magic? Why had this woman blamed a naive girl of four and ten, who had made a mistake in judgment and, as misguided as it was, tried to correct it?

But no, people expected- demanded of her- nothing but perfection. Like Varys, whom she had told point-blank to please, tell to her face instead of plotting against her, Mirri, instead of taking her offer of friendship as an opportunity to guide a much younger woman in the ways of the world, and hopefully, make sure what had happened to her would not happen to anyone else, sought vengeance.

That Mirri tried to call it Justice- stating that Rhaego, an unborn child, would have been the worse of them all- just showed Daenerys that not every victim deserved saving. 

Did Mirri deserve to be raped three times? No- not at all. This kind of violence was the vilest of vices, and Daenerys who had endured it and survived it, knew better than to wish it onto anybody. 

But the witch’s actions had only proved that Mirri, after suffering such abuse, had herself became an abuser.

Mirri abused Daenery’s trust and innocence in the most horrible way and that is why her life was forfeit. **1**

The deception. The lies. The scheming. It was unacceptable.

As it was the backstabbing- or the stabbing at her heart during what she thought to be a loving embrace.

The punishment for treason was death.

It could only be death.

***

Still, Daenerys had killed thousands that day.

Was she really mad when she had been proved right? That her closest allies were all conspiring against her?

Daenerys could only count on herself at that moment.

And she made her choice.

It would have been far easier to have simply flown to the Red keep, giving Cersei an ultimatum, like Aegon did to Harren, and once the time was up, burn the castle to the ground. It would have avoided all the bloodshed that followed and solved her problem...had Daenerys had an advisor she could trust

But no...Daenerys was not Aegon. She did not have two sisters to support her and advise her. All she had was Tyrion, who had failed her so many times, telling her to stop when the bells were tolled.

By that time, if Tyrion told Daenerys the sky was blue, she would have doubted.

How many times he had failed her?

He was either an idiot- or he had failed her purposedly.

Besides, as she had been reminded time and again, Daenerys had tits, not a cock.

She could not be Aegon.

She had to be even better.

***

Of course, Daenerys could have solved everything soon after she landed. But not..she listed to Tyrion.

Oh, how she regretted it.

Had Daenerys burnt the Red Keep at the beginning, Dorne would not have fallen into disarray, Ellaria and Lady Olena, true allies, would have been alive to give her counsel, Cersei would have died and King´s Landing, properly liberated.

She listened, and she lost. Not because she listened to Tyrion and Jon, but because she did not listen to _ herself. _

And every step of the way, Daenerys had given them both chances to prove her  _ wrong _ , and they only proved her _ right. _

And when she finally took the blindfold out of her eyes, Daenerys would be dammed if she did, and dammed if she did not.

The bells, she was told, were a sign of surrender. Were they really? Why should she have believed in Tyrion at that point? Or trusted Jon, who had betrayed her by telling the Starks?

Varys had told her how Cersei was humiliated ...how they had forced her to walk for atonement, bells tolling and people screaming “ Shame! Shame!”

The bells...it could have been all a ruse.

At that point, Daenerys could not afford to be proven correct. She had to send a message. That odious Sansa, whom she had all intentions not only to help but befriend, had made it clear: she wanted a Crown for herself. No matter how inhospitable that land of hers was...or how they would need the South- and the Essosi- to rebuild their nation into a great one, Sansa Stark would challenge her for reasons only herself would understand. _ **2**_

Daenerys had Dorne, the Stormlands, The Vale...she could afford not to care about the private opinion of northerners, but not to overlook the threat in Sansa´s words. 

She could not afford not to punish the Westerlanders for their deception and constant support of Cersei… and the bulk of their troops were at King´s Landing, the last bastion of Cersei´s pride.

Yes, Daenerys burned them- and was taken by surprise at how fierce she had become, at how easy it was when she finally embraced the dragon in her and from there, she could only go further and further. 

She was in too deep.

There was no madness in her. She had not lost her sanity because she had lost it all. No. Every since her dragons were born, Daenerys had Power, and she had proved that she could yield power as well as any men, or even better, if only she trusted herself.

Power never corrupted Daenerys, because she had always nurtured her natural kindness, she had always looked into her emotions and taken them into consideration. 

Burning King´s Landing was Daenerys ignoring her emotions and paying the price for forgetting who she was. She wanted the war to stop, The Seven Kingdoms to remain united under her, and to do that, not only she had to destroy Cersei and annihilate her forces, but she had to show Westeros that anybody who dared go against her, better be prepared to die a painful death than to expect mercy.

Burning only the Red Keep would make people whisper she had gone mad and scheme to oust her; but burning half of King´s Landing...this would make people be sure she was mad and not even dare to go against her.

That was her mistake and her greatest shame. ** _3_**

***

Daenerys thinks about Missandei, Jorah and Greyworm every day.

She cherishes the memory of her dead friends and hopes that the only one living has found some measure of solace.

Mantarys is an isolated city; news do not come easy. Daenerys is tempted to go to Naarth, as she knew of Missandei and Greyworm´s plans, but worries about her babies. Even dragons can die of butterfly fever.

She knows her Khalasar has returned to Essos because is what everyone is talking about. The slave market has been in disarray ever since most of the horse lords stopped trading. The greatest source of income of the Dothraki is actually making cities pay as to avoid being invaded and part of their strategy in the area is actually attacking slaver´s caravans, killing the masters, claiming their fortunes and training the enslaved as foot soldiers, which they learned to appreciate in Westeros.

***

Visenya is born first; her twin, Jaehaerys, comes next. 

Daenerys can barely believe her eyes. Albeit small, they are perfect in every way. 

They are perfect, they are alive and they are  _ hers. _

All prophecies are self-fulfilling. She believed in Mirri and blamed herself for the deaths of Drogo and Rhaego- that´s why she could not have carried a pregnancy to term all those years. Because she had not forgiven herself.

Her body would not allow babies to come to life because her spirit was broken.

But Daenerys had time to reflect on her past and about her present Her mistakes and failures. The things she did and the things she did not.

Daenerys would never forget, but she had come full circle.

She had forgiven herself and in doing so, she had lifted the curse.

***

Daenerys is relieved to see there is not much of their  _ father _ in them. Visenya has his grey eyes- eyes she would always find beautiful- and the long face. Her hair, perhaps, too, has something of the Starks, as her blond is muted, darker than Jaehaerys white shade, but all in all, nobody would take them for northerners.

They were the Blood of the Dragon, children of Old- New- Valyria.

If their appearance is not proof enough, the eggs Daenerys laid in their joint cradle cracked after a year. 

She does not name the new dragons as a sign of respect- one day, their rightful riders will do the honor. Instead, Daenerys calls them Yellow and Green, and is Drogon who spends most of his time with the new additions, teaching them how to fly and hunt in the scorched lands of Valyria.

Daenerys has come a long way. She travels to Mantarys three times a year, bringing not only wheat to make bread and spices to flavor their meat, but also clothes, soap, toys, and books.

One day, during one of her excursions to the destroyed Manse, Daenerys finds a glass candle.

She does not want to, but eventually, Daenerys reaches out. To Qaith, of all people. Alone in the wilderness with two babies and dragons for company is still alone. She does make some tentative friendships in Mantarys, but cannot reveal too much of herself, fearing placing her children in danger.

With Qaith, Daenerys does not have this problem- the seer knows all about her.

***

“Mother, who is our father?”

Jaehaerys is five and wants to learn everything about everything. Daenerys teaches them both how to write and read as earlier as possible because she is frankly tired of their questions and wants them to find the answers themselves.

Visenya is fearless. She bosses her brother around and demands an explanation from their mothers as if she was the adult in that relationship.

Daenerys considers. She had always known this day would come, but she never thought it would be this  _ early _ . Thinking about Jon does not hurt anymore. She had come to terms with the fact that Jon could not have possibly loved her as she had loved him because he was too broken for that. 

A miserable childhood, years being told he was nothing but a bastard, a deep seethed believe he was unworthy of a woman, of a family. For all the troubles and poverty Daenerys had experienced while growing up, Viserys had  _ always _ made sure to tell her she was a Princess, that she was a Targaryen and that she should deserve better than others because she was  _ bet _ ter. 

She had never believed that she was actually better than anyone, but this attitude of Viserys had impacted Daenerys so much that she never disputed her place in the world: she was a Princess, she married a Khal, she made herself Queen and Conqueror and she was mother to Dragons, Bride of Fire, Breaker of Chains.

But Jon, on the other hand...even his successes were half failures.

By the end, what had Jon Snow accomplished? He allowed the Free Folk to pass south yes and was elected King, but this had more to do with the fact he was a man in a men´s world, and that his half-sister, Sansa, had many ambitions and could only hope to achieve them through him. It had nothing to do with Jon actually having agency and wanting to make the world a better place, it was just Jon reacting to things and people and hoping for the best possible outcome.

Jon never thought he was deserving and it showed.

He had lived as a Stark bastard and had killed her because he chose to be a Stark bastard.

Daenerys had loved him- Jon. She had not felt threatened by him, she had trusted him- and that was her undoing. She knew he did not want the Throne, but the problem- which he elected not to understand- was that the people around him would demand him to take it regardless of his feelings.

Jon would be their puppet. Sansa would bully him into giving her The North. Tyrion would talk him into doing whatever the hell Tyrion wanted him to do. Mayhaps he would be, in time, even persuaded to take a wife…

Jon might have been the son of Rhaegar, but he was not a dragon.

A dragon is not a slave.

But wolves can be domesticated… _ **4**_

***

Daenerys had loved Jon because she believed Jon to be better than he actually was. She saw strength where there was weakness and overlooked his insecurities because she assumed he would grow out of it.

She knew he was falling in love with her and was floored when he knocked at her door and made love to her. Daenerys thought this moment would be a turning point- the Wolf King and the Dragon Queen finally honoring the Pact of Ice and Fire- but, looking back, the opportunity had been lost. 

It was not his first bold, confident act, but his last. 

Once they arrived at Winterfell, Jon was on the fence. Daenerys waited and waited. She watched as he allowed The North to believe that Daenerys had forced him to bend the knee when she had not; she watched as Jon made no real effort in reigning in his family when their relationship was concerned and said nothing when the plan he had come up with- with minimal input from the supposed all-powerful entity Three-Eyed Raven- was obviously as flawed as a plan could be.

Deep inside, Daenerys asked herself, as they watched  _ her  _ forces being wiped out by the Army of the Dead if Jon had not silently blamed her for the fiasco. She announced his plan was not working, that they would have to change it and started to improvise. Jon followed suit, but as the battle developed and it was clear they were losing, mayhaps Jon had told himself his plan would have worked, had she not made the last minute changes?

Even if Jon though that, it did not matter. Their joint efforts were in vain. All that needed to be done was to stick a Valyrian steel weapon on the Ice Demon´s heart before a weir wood tree.

And yes, they had never really _ needed _ Brandon Stark, had they? The boy made himself King, and the boy was supposed to see past, present and future, which means the boy  _ knew _ . 

The boy knew and said nothing. 

The boy knew how to kill the Ice Demon, but to become King, Daenerys forces  _ had _ to be wiped out that night...to become King, Daenerys  _ had _ to go South and lose a dragon and a friend...to become King, half the population of King´s Landing had to burn, and to become King…

Jon Snow had to kill her.

All for Brandon Stark to become King.

“And they are patting themselves on the back, telling themselves what they did was right...because I...because  _ I _ am the monster.”

No, Westeros had never deserved her. _ **5**_

***

But her children were growing and demanding a father and Daenerys would never deny them anything- she had done enough, forcing them to live in isolation, in the middle of the jungle, no children to play with, nobody but herself to teach them…

Daenerys had to find Jon.

“Qaith...I need  _ him. _ ”

In those lonely years, when the twins were sleeping and Drogon, out on the skies with his new siblings, Daenerys forced herself to learn the things she should have learned but never had time to.

In doing that, Daenerys discovered she was, as Visenya had been, a witch of Old Valyria.

Fire was the source of her Power.

Fire was Passion. Fire was Creation.Fire was Life.

And cold was the source of The Great Other- of Brandon Stark´s- Power.

Ice was Indifference. Ice was Stagnation. Ice was Death.

But the Broken was not a man, not a child, but a thousand different faces and voices inside.

A most horrible, dreadful enemy.

And Daenerys wanted her children to live.

Westeros was welcomed to become the New Empire of the Dawn, doomed to fall when Gods fought against each other. She had heard The North had a Queen and smiled. Sansa could choke on her cold, barren lands for all Daenerys cared. The Three-Eyed Raven would never die, but change hosts, and she doubted Brandon Stark had allowed his sister her wish if he had not seen it The North eventually reverting to him and His Masters.

Now that her womb was fertile ground again, Daenerys recognized the signs in Sansa: the girl would never have children and the Three-Eyed Raven counted on it.

“Qaith...I need to find  _ him _ . You told me he lives.”

“Yes, he does- in the lands ruled by their Gods, deep North in the frozen lands, where the wolves roam and the Giants are no more.”

Daenerys only asked what could be of interest to her children´s survival. Qaith had confirmed the Ice King would dedicate his endless life to kill her, her dragons and her children because their Magic was a threat to his.

And this would be his Doom. “ Balance must be kept. North, South. West, East. His Magic prevailed over yours in the West, but you are in East and you seek nothing but your strength. He is West and wants nothing but to come East and kill your kin. He is the Enemy because what he wants is not His.”

Daenerys understood that, as far as she was alive, the dragons would be alive...and as far as she made sure her line would not die out, Fire would not be extinguished. 

This was her main goal and she was happy to hear all she had to do to achieve her goal was to ignore Westeros completely.

Daenerys had gone and helped save the world- because The Long Night would eventually extend East- but the sacrifice had already been made.

Daenerys owed them _ nothing. _

But surviving was not enough for anymore…

she wanted her children to be healthy, to be safe and happy.

And they wished to know their father.

They could only be safe and happy and whole if they knew where they came from and who had sired them.

Qaith had been telling her, for months now, that the time had not come. That Daenerys needed to wait. That it was not yet safe, that the Ice King had eyes all around where Jon was…

Children´s wish or not, Daenerys would wait.

***

Just after they turned six, the day came.

“Meraxes and Vhagar will stay behind and protect our holdings.” 

Daenerys and her children on Drogon´s back and not for the last time, she cursed herself for never bothering to commission a saddle. 

_ But I was always on the run...never planting trees, fighting and fighting and fighting. _

Still, they were comfortable in the warmth of Drogon´s back. It would be either a shock or a delight, for Vis and Jae to see the snow and experience the real cold of those lands as Valyria was always warm.

Daenerys told herself it would be worth it.

“Remember, we will be only there for a day at best- it is not safe for us. We are of The Fire, and Cold can kill us.”

They both nodded. “ We understand, mhysa...this is just an adventure!”

Daenerys smiled at Visenya- always eager to explore and prone to mischief- and added, in a serious tone:

”Yes, sweetheart- an adventure this is. But  _ a one time adventure _ . Do not hope for more.”

Daenerys knew that hoping for more from Jon Snow would only lead to disappointment.

***

Six years...six long years and Jon Snow was still as miserable as he had been the first day he came back to The Wall.

He had even tried to desert- and had, for a time- but always returned for more suffering. Tormund and the Free Folk would never stay in one place for long enough. Many had resettled some areas, established homesteads, but Tormund´s people were nomads, and Jon, being the Lord Commander, would sometimes stay with them for extended periods.

By this point, everybody was doing this at The Wall. 

The watchers would come and go as they pleased, provided they would always come back. The decimation of the free folk population and the loneliness of the Wall led both partiers to intermingle with each other: Crows having families living a couple of days away from The Wall was now the norm, not the exception.

But the Free Folk were not Jon´s people, and he could never really live among them. He was sure that someone like Sansa, who barely knew him, or Arya, who only knew him as a young man, would fool themselves into believing that Jon was happy up North, that he was finally reunited with people whom he loved and understood, and even perhaps, that he would make a spearwife his, have babies with her and forget all about his previous life. _**6**_

Just an idiot would think  _ that _ .

Yes, Jon had lived among them, and yes, he had come to respect and admire the Free Folk, but their ways were not  _ his _ ways. Ygritte was his first love, but a reluctant love. He had no idea she would be considered his wife, and had no real intentions of making love to her, but his cover would be exposed otherwise. While he grew fond of Ygritte, he did not love her. It had been difficult to leave her behind, but he left anyway, because he did not belong there, and did not belong with her. 

As for Val, Jon could have fucked her anytime, but he never made any effort for two reasons. 

First, because he did not want it and second..because he could  _ not _ .

He could  _ physically _ not.

Val reminded Jon of  _ her _ ...of Daenerys...of the woman he loved, just to abandon the moment she truly, really needed him. The woman he pushed away when all she wanted from him was his love, the woman who had never asked anything from him without a clear, selfless purpose, who had never tried to manipulate him, who had actually saved his life three times, twice after he had revealed himself a threat to her claim…

How Jon had repaid Daenerys? With a dagger in her heart. 

In her most vulnerable moment, Jon had lured her...lied to her… and killed her. _**7**_

Daenerys had killed thousands. She had made a wrong decision- one he himself had pushed her into and instead of helping her atone for such a decision, Jon had taken upon himself not only to be her judge but her executioner.

Jon was not thinking straight on those days. If he had, he would see how people around him were using him for their own benefit. Westeros had seen more than its share of war crimes and, what´s more, as he learned at the Council, many nobles rolled their eyes at the so-called “ destruction of King´s Landing” as if it had been something not only expected but a logical outcome.

Why had Jon done it? Because Tyrion had convinced him that “ everywhere she goes, evil men die and we cheer her on”?

Why would people  _ not  _ cheer when Justice was being served? 

Tyrion changed the tune seeing Jon had doubts. Ah, he played Jon well- his sisters, Tyrion said, would be in danger if Daenerys was allowed to live. 

But neither Sansa, nor Arya, were in chains at the dungeons, waiting for trial…

Tyrion, on the other hand... _ **8**_

What Jon did not understand then, but he did understand now, was that Tyrion was only looking after himself and his class. 

_ They were all evil men- evil men helping each other _ . 

Tyrion and his father before him were evil men. The smallfolk were allowed to serve them and they would treat them well enough insofar as to avoid a revolt, but their deaths at war were nothing to be truly disgusted over, as Jon should have known, since Tyrion was the one responsible for the death of Ser Davos´s son when he attacked Stannis fleet with- guess what-  _ fire. _

When had Tyrion Lannister done anything for selfless reasons, when had he helped someone without second intentions?

_ Neve _ r- even his decision of not raping Sansa on her wedding night was in the hopes she would willingly give herself to him, not an adult man having some scruple in bedding a child..

What had really bothered Tyrion was that Daenerys Justice had touched his delicate, golden people. Nobles, all of them. Daenerys did not discriminate. But Tyrion Lannister had problems with that, with a Queen whose sense of Justice made her treated nobles and plebeians equally.

This Tyrion Lannister could not understand.

Tyrion Lannister was a hypocrite. Daenerys had dragons- Fire was her weapon. Had Fire not been his weapon before? When he drowned the armies of Stannis Baratheon in wildfire? 

He had no problems in negotiating with slavers...he had no problems when Daenerys was burning the savages Khals on the Grass Seas, but the moment she broke into the Lannister´s forces and executed two men who had betrayed their own homeland, raped and pillaged the smallfolk of The Reach to join the armies of the West...Tyrion Lannister  _ started _ having second thoughts.

They were nobles...of Westeros...his people. The allies of His House.

When had Tyrion cared for the smallfolk? He had been the one to convince Daenerys the best way to win people´s hearts was starving them to death in a Siege…suposedely so she would not be known as “ The Queen of Ashes”?

Gods, how _ stupid _ Jon had been. **_9_**

Jon had thought of Tyrion as a friend. He told Jon to kill her and admitted he too, had been in love with her. Now looking back, it seemed to Jon that, once Tyrion realized he would never have Daenerys, he made sure nobody ever would. 

Could it be that simple?

No, Tyrion called Daenerys a tyrant...that was his excuse. That he had served a tyrant for all that time, but just realized once they had gone to Westeros the extent of her madness.

Daenerys had killed his siblings too. The ones responsible for all the wars, for all the suffering. Had Tyrion cared to think that neither Jaime nor Cersei deserved to live? Their affair was not a personal matter- it was treason. The Armies of the West fought believing Cersei’s children to be legitimate when they were not. Had Jaime been a good person, as Tyrion believed, he would have taken Cersei away and lived in Essos, where nobody would care about them. Had Cersei really loved Jaime more than power, she would have gone.

But Jon could relate to that- the feeling of blindness one has when it comes to one´s family.

Sansa. Arya. Bran...they had all turned against him, in the end. _ **10**_

Yes, even Arya. Trying to turn Jon against Daenerys since day one. “ She is not one of us” .Words she heard from Sansa, no doubt. Arya said Daenerys was a killer. Jon could not argue with that, could he? He _ too _ was a killer. So was Ned Stark. So was Robert Baratheon… and, tragically, so was Arya. 

Of Sansa, Jon was at loss. Why had she disliked Daenerys so much? She said she cared about Winterfell and its people- Daenerys was there to save them. So why Sansa had done everything she could to isolate, humiliate and disparage Daenerys?

Jon knew the answer: Sansa wanted to be Queen. _ **11**_

The only thing Sansa cared about was Winterfell. Not that Winterfell survived, or the North thrived, but that she owned them.

Sansa sold this ambition as love for her family, but Jon knew the truth now. Sansa used Jon as a general to fight her battles. She never really tried to save Rickon, she just said what Jon wanted to hear. They were retaking Winterfell to save Rickon, she said. But it had not been true. Pressed when they failed to gain as many allies as she expected, Sansa had admitted to Jon she did not expect to have Rickon back. Ramsay would kill Rickon- and there was nothing they could do. Sansa just lured Jon into leading her troops with the false hope of rescuing their brother because it served her purpose. 

And, if in the past, Jon was able to rationalize this cold nature with Sansa just doing the best she could with the little she got, what kind of person would use future death of a brother this way?

Jon had been surrounded by people who only cared about themselves and their motives, even when they were facing the possible extinction of their race.

He was disgusted by them...all of them…

Himself most of all.

Even Samwell...sweet, mild-mannered Samwell had asked for Daenerys head the moment she made a decision that  _ directly _ and  _ personally _ affected him- no care about the consequences and repercussions to the smallfolk, tired of war. 

Jon had expected more of Samwell, but he had brushed it off as an initial, raw reaction to the news. Lord Tarly was an evil man and his heir, complicit. Had Samwell´s father not betrayed His Liege? Had his brother, a man grown, not done the same? 

Why would Samwell expect a Queen not to execute traitors? Because he- a person she had no idea it even existed before she came to Winterfell- was related to the traitors?

The only real good person in all this mess had been Ser Davos, who was able to set aside his personal dislike of Tyrion to work towards their common goal. 

But Davos had been born poor and had seen his share of suffering to understand he was not the only one suffering burdens of war while Samwell, Sansa, Tyrion...even Arya, had been raised as pampered nobles. Their suffering was more important than a peasant´s suffering in their estimation.

They could not understand nor accept Daenerys.

Daenerys although technically royal, was raised in poverty. Learned the hard way what was to be hungry, to be cold and defenseless. Political concerns aside, Daenerys would tolerate nobles, but not algin with them above anyone else and that was why she was killed.

Daenerys could afford independence because she had dragons. A woman not impressed by titles, who had her own opinions and wanted to make the world a better place was, for people like Tyrion and Sansa, trained in backstabbing politics, a most dangerous overlord. _ **12**_

Every single person of Jon´s trust, with the exception of Davos, whom he should have heard from the beginning when he suggested Jon to marry Daenerys at White Harbour ( “ No, we have to defeat the White Walkers first.”), had not only manipulated him, lied to him, or betrayed him, but actually done that purposely. 

They all ended exactly  _ where _ they wanted to end, with Jon both far away from their eyes and minds. 

***

Sometimes, Jon goes alone to the wild. “to hunt”, he tells his Black brothers. 

Although he always comes back with deer, it is not game Jon is after when he crosses The Wall.

It is silence, it is solitude, it is his dreams.

She is always there, in his dreams.

Always.

In one of those dreams, she calls to him. She shows him a place beyond the woods, a clearance, an abandoned cabin.

Jon goes there, as if in a dream. 

The first thing that strikes him is the absence of weirwood trees. “ It seems the Three-eyed Raven can not reach us here, boy.”

Ghost is the only light in the darkness of his life.

Still, there is enough wood at the back of the cabin for fire and Jon gets busy.

He had just finished the fire when he saw  _ it _ .

A pair of wings...of dark, the darkest of wings.

***

Jon has no doubt the children are his. The boy looks exactly like his father, Rhaegar Targaryen. He knows because he saw a painting of the late Prince at the Red Keep- for as much as people would make of the destruction of the city, Daenerys had not even burnt half of The Keep. In fact, most of the Castle was intact- Cersei had removed the caskets of wildfire from the tunnels underneath it, obviously to facilitate her escape if the city was breached and her Crown, lost.

The girl, however, is a pleasant mix of both her parents. Jon´s eyes and long face and Daenerys delicate, classic features. 

The little girl is the first one to speak. “ My name is Visenya Targaryen and this is my brother, Jaehaerys. Mother said you are our Father. Are you really?”

Jon is barely cognizant of the fact that Daenerys is standing right before him. 

“Aye, I am your Father, little one.” he finally answers.

Jon offers the children a smile. He has a son and a daughter and he does not how to feel about it- he does not even know if all this was true, or if the Targaryen madness- the one Samwell made sure to confirm to Jon it existed and it was another reason for his celibacy- had finally claimed his sanity.

The next hour is spent in confusion and excitement. Jon feeds his children with the bread and cheese he brought from Castle Black and they tell him about their life: they live on the countryside, occasionally visiting a city named Mantarys ( which is a big event in their lives, and apparently, they make the most of it) but they spend time by themselves, in the woods, while raising their two dragons and flying on the back of the large one...

“ and we need to keep them a secret because there is an evil Ice King who wants to kill them!”

The boy speaks the truth, Jon knows. The rare ravens Brandon sends to him are all regarding one subject and one subject only: the dragon. Had Jon seen it? Had Jon sensed it? Would Jon help search for the beast and put him down?

Jon never replies.

***

The children are sound asleep when Jon and Daenerys finally talk.

“You wer---”

“Pregnant when you stuck a dagger in my heart? Yes, I was - though I did not know at the time.”

Jon is shocked beyond words- the list and the gravity of his crimes against the woman he still loves has no end. 

“ For what it’s worth, I am…”

_ “Sorry _ ?” Daenerys shakes her head. “Makes no difference to me whether you are sorry or not. Your regret was not what healed me of the wounds you inflicted. It was Drogon, who brought me to the House of my ancestors- the ancestors you spurned- just in the nick of time. They were born very small, but otherwise perfectly healthy. I fed them from my breasts...I loved them… I protected them. And now I brought them to their Father because it is their Right. I did not come here for you to feel sorry, Jon. I came here for my children to know the face of their sire.”

“I will do anything in my power to atone...anything to protect them, Dany…”

She can see Jon means every word he is saying. 

Daenerys raises an eyebrow.  _ This could be useful, yes. _

Now that she was in Westeros...Daenerys could not be fooled. Her mere existence was a threat to the Ice King. 

Jon, no matter how honest he was being, was an idiot.

Sooner, or later, he would confide in someone he should not have, and their existence would be exposed.

How to remedy this oversight?

By repaying Jon´s treason in kind.

***

_ If he comes back, then he comes back. Luckily, changed by Valyria, as I was. He is either brought back as a Targaryen or he dies as a Stark. _

Daenerys was not sure it would work this way...and there was another wolf there she had to be rid of.

“Call your wolf. You are to kill him.”

There is hesitancy in Jon´s eyes, yes, but also a measure of understanding. 

“ If you fear Bran can warg into Ghost...he cannot.”

“Mayhaps you are right, but I learned the hard way you are oftentimes more wrong than right. I take no chances when the safety of my children is concerned. Ghost will see them, will smell them and know they are yours. That monster you still think as your cousin might not be able to warg your wolf when you are with him, but who is to say he does when you are not around?”

Jon knows in his heart there is a possibility that what Daenerys is saying is true. They cannot be sure of the extent of Bran´s powers- he had made very vague references about being able to see the future, but never explained how  _ exactly  _ being the Three Eyed Raven worked.

Mayhaps that was in purpose. To have people guessing all the time.

Bran Stark was the enemy of his children- his enemy.

***

The only consolation Jon finds when he chops the head of Ghost is that Eddard Stark himself had killed a direwolf, the symbol of His own House, and in the end, paid for this crime with his head.

Despite this eerie similarity, Jon was not Eddard Stark, but if the Gods would make him Jon suffer from such act, then be it…

Jon was doing this to keep his children safe, which was more than Ned Stark did in life, all things considered.

Sansa a prisoner at the hands of his killer...Arya lost to the woods...

Ned Stark could have offered Cersei all the mercy he wanted _after_ he had made sure his children were safe.

But Ned had his honour- and it was his honour that killed him and half his family.

Emulating the man he had called father for all those years just brought Jon in the hole he himself had dug himself in and, in order to come out of it, he would have to forget all the lessons Lord Stark taught him.

Jon shrugged. It would not be difficult. He had already killed the boy in him- now he would kill the wolf.

“Gods, may this sacrifice protect those I love from harm. I willingly offer you this wolf and my soul, for the family I have with the woman I love. Kill the wolf, so that the dragon is reborn.”

The choice had been made. 

***

The children are inside when Daenerys overcomes the disgust growing in her belly and finally seduces Jon.

She joins him in his furs. He is cold, she is warm. It does not matter what he has done to her, she realizes: he still wants her. 

Desperately. 

The minute she touches him, his cock hardens.

It is not enough for her, so she asks him to give her the Lord´s kiss. He does, in his usual effective way- it pains her to admit, but he is somewhat skilled.

When she is ready, she mounts him.

She jumps around his cock up and down, but try not to look at him, at those eyes- the eyes of her daughter- when she sticks the dagger in his heart.

***

When Daenerys is finished with Jon, she walks to the corpse of Ghost and skins the wolf.

There is no reason to lose such fine fur.

***

The flight back to Old Valyria is a test for Daenerys nerves. The children kept their parts of the bargain, and ask nothing of their father, but she knows they desperately want to.

“We are bringing him back with us. If the Gods of our ancestors are willing, he survives the trip and will be living with us. If not, we mount a pyre and burn him- it is the way of our family.”

She does not give them any explanation as to why their Father has a dagger buried on his chest...or why he makes no noise or why he is not moving.

***

At this point, Daenerys cannot afford to be indifferent to Jon´s fate and, as soon as the children are entertained with their dragons, she joins him by the edge of the old volcano.

The vigil does not take long.

“ It seems you were deemed worthy. Third time´s a charm.”

“You killed me.” 

Not an accusation, just a statement. 

Was Jon as indifferent to his own life as Daenerys?

Apparently yes. 

“ You are to stay with us- I cannot have you coming back to your duties at The Watch. You proved yourself unable to keep family secrets, so your honour will be forfeit this time. You are, by all instances and purposes, a deserter of The Watch.”

***

If being brought back to life- or being rescued from the brink of death- had given Daenerys a new perspective, to Jon, it only meant that all that had come before that event had been either a mistake or a lie.

He had never been a bastard, but a trueborn son. It took him another life to learn the truth, but even after he did, because he still saw himself as a bastard, he thought he did not deserve the things that destiny had gifted him. 

A woman to love, a family to have, a country to rule.

The bastard in him destroyed his own happiness so that others, whom he believed more deserving, would be happy in his place.

Although at that time Jon believed they were deserving, even then he had been disappointed in his family. 

But was it their fault? 

Had they forced him to do it?

No, they had not.

It would be easy to blame it all on Sansa, whom never, previously to her stay at Castle Black, treated Jon with an ounce of warmth. Yes, it would have been easier, but not true: even Arya and Bran, the two people he considered closest to him, had used him and then, when they got what they wanted, discarded him.

When Jon needed support and sought understanding, Arya had rebuffed him. Daenerys was not one of them. Sansa was right. Jon was stupid. 

This reaction from Arya- who had ever been his beloved, adored sister- had only solidified that vague feeling of not belonging, but wanting to, in Jon.

Arya made Jon doubt himself. Arya made Jon feel like he had something to prove to the Starks and, in the end, had been Arya who demanded Jon to give up on Daenerys

There was also Bran. Jon  _ knew _ there was little of his half brother left inside that cold entity, but Gods, he  _ tried _ to reach out. Every step of the way, Brandon gave Jon  _ nothing _ . Absolutely nothing. And when they said their goodbyes, feeling a bit guilty for not coming to the aid of the child he had left behind, Bran, eyes as cold as Ice, told Jon he had been exactly where he was supposed to be.

That meant that everything had happened the way Brandon had seen it. Not only this but that Brandon had made a choice: he had condemned thousands of people to die because he had seen it. It was not like he had done nothing to prevent the tragedy because this would lead him to be King. 

No, it was worse: Brand had made  _ sure _ it happened.

The facts spoke for themselves. 

***

Jon was finally free.

Of their lies.

Of his illusions.

He was now the man he had always been supposed to be: Aegon.

Jon Snow was dead.

***

The question had never been “ why he had been brought back to life” but rather ” Why had he been given life in the first place.”

For a time, Jon believed his life´s call was to defeat the White Walkers. It appeared so. He had joined the Night´s Watch. He had learned first hand the tales were true...he was given a Valyrian Steel sword the only weapon that killed those monsters.

In the end, it was a Stark who gave the final blow. Considering the Starks might have been the ones at least partially responsible for their creation- had their ancestors not engaged in war against the children?- it was only fitting they would be the ones destroying it. 

All it took was a Stark, on sacred ground, before a weirwood tree, to undo with Valyrian Steel what had been done with dragon glass. 

Jon now realized the Starks of Old  _ knew _ . Why would they make sure to always have a Stark at Winterfell- and one with Valyrian Steel? House Stark was old, had royal blood, but never attached great importance to displays of wealth. It made sense Lannisters would try and buy Valyrian Steel, because that is what Lannisters did, but the Starks?

The North went hungry and cold for centuries because the Starks had lost the original Ice and its replacement was a Valyrian Steel monstrosity that only two hands could lift it.

Arya Stark had defeated the Monster at Winterfell. Nothing of what Jon did directly affected this outcome. He was at The Wall and allowed the Free Folk to pass, yes, and those brave warriors hold the threat for a time, but Stannis, a King who understood the enemy, had also  _ been there _ .

Jon Snow´s birth had nothing to do with defeating the White Walkers. The fact that he did not, just proved it.

**

Rhaegar Targaryen had just partially understood why a third child was needed. Why he needed Lyanna to be the mother. It was a symbol. Balance between Ice and Fire could be achieved. Jon was a physical manifestation of that possibility.

Dragons were Fire made Flesh.

White Walkers were Flesh made Ice. 

The world needed both Ice and Fire balanced and contained by each other, lest both would threaten Peace.

That is why Jon Snow was born- and that was his biggest failure. 

Instead of just embracing one side of his inheritance, Jon would have to embrace both to succeed. 

Jon should have been the link. He should have bonded his life to Daenerys to reaffirm the alliance between Starks and Targaryens.

Fire and Ice. When Rhaegar married Lyanna, Mad King Aerys invalidated the arrangement by killing Starks with Fire.

Bran the Broken had not been as blatant in his disapproval...but no less effective.

Jon had failed and allowed The Ice King to be born from the ashes of the Dragon Queen.

***

But the Dragon was reborn. 

The Ice King ruled the West. 

Jon knew Bran would never stop. No, that thing was not Bran anymore- Bran too was dead.

The Three-Eyed Crow had never been defeated. Now, stronger than ever, the Crow would try and bring down from the skies the dragons he hated so much.

Aegon would stop him.

Old Valyria would be restored- better, cleansed. No splendor built on the back of slaves, this Valyria would be a Refuge for Dragons, for Magic, for True Knowledge…

Aegon would see to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1-Lindsay Ellis, whom I respect, pointed out that, if the writers wanted to push madness into Daenerys, they should have used MMDuur as the backbone, for the only known weakness of Daenerys was to expect people to be thankful to her.  
> While I see the point,why the fuck people to not call out a grown woman to have abused the trust of a teenager for revenge and tried to destroy her life?  
> Daenerys was trying to adapt to a new culture. Not even her desire to reclaim Westeros- the force behind Drogo´s attack- should place the blame on her: even if Daenerys had given up the Crown, Drogo still would rape and pillage.  
> Therefore, the only thing she could do to avoid the rapes was to claim the women as her own.  
> Yes, MMDuur had already been raped. She had all the right to be mad. But what she did after suffering abuse was to become an abuser herself.  
> Of course, if MMDurr only concern was to avoid Rhaego to be born...then we could say her actions were somehow justified. But not: she wanted to hurt Daenerys personally.
> 
> 2- the main problem with the burning of Kl was not the OOC turn, but the obvious retcon of the narrative. (See the notes at the beginning) This led the writers to attempt to explain it. Since they could not agree on a valid explanation, they throw at us many explanations:  
> bad from the beginning? became mad because a Targaryen? grief drove her to the edge? her lover spurning her advances what made her mad?a rational decision to rule through fear? spur of the moment thing ?  
> Note you can not even say that is a combination of those because if Daenerys indeed chose to send a message through fear, then how the hell it was grief the motivation?
> 
> 3- a man sticking a knife on the heart of a woman after luring her into a sense of security is not some tragic, Shakespearean stuff. It is cheap, it has been done and if the audiences wanted to see this shit they would have flocked to Dark Phoenix.  
> Nissa Nissa? all the elements were already fulfilled by Daenerys. I should also point out that, if killing her was Jon saving the world, this is bullshit.Her reign was like what, five minutes? So it was not the "darkness" and the age of despair that the prophecies were talking about.  
> However, the most egregious thing is : there was a very, very bittersweet way they could have done it. When Jon went to confront Daenerys, instead of finding her defending it, he should have found her completely broken by it. This is a valid reaction a mentally ill person would have to a psychotic outbreak.  
> Then, the logical ending would be for Jon to realize he is the only person she has left, she is not only the woman he loves but her family and that he too had a responsibility .  
> It would have been very bittersweet to see Jon collecting her and they both flying off of Westeros.
> 
> 4-At least, they were very clear on why they wanted Jon to be King. As Varys said, Daenerys is " too strong".
> 
> 5- Antis say Daenerys to be entitled. Guess what? Westeros is an absolutist monarchy. That is exactly the mentality of people have. That you need to be born into it and raised for. Besides, on the point of people saying that she is not humble: why believing in yourself is a bad thing when it comes to her? Knowing your worth is good
> 
> 6-another character change was to turn Jon into this bland guy. In the books, Jon is ambitious and not a helpless good guy. Book!Jon forces Gilly to give away her baby as hostage.  
> and although he came to respect the Free Folk, Book!Jon never feels like he belongs there. 
> 
> 7-Jon becoming Jaime, yet they framed it as Jon becoming Ned ( Duty is the death of Love) They got their ideas mixed. This arc belongs to Jaime and it would have been his ultimate sacrifice.
> 
> 8- In the show, after frying thousands of people alive in wildfire, threatening to kill his sister, telling the city they all deserved to die,Tyrion the pacifist somehow makes sense. He saw a chance of surviving and took it, as he saw a chance of political survival at the Dragon Pit and took it.  
> Even when the show framing him as a pacifist man, his actions scream self service.
> 
> 9- Ygritte knew best. 
> 
> 10- The show trying to frame the Elites as knowing best, while the only two characters who aligned themselves with the lower classes as stupid (Jon) and mad ( Daenerys) just goes to show you where DnD stands politically.  
> GRRM is on record saying that Daenerys is fighting for eguality.  
> 11-Show!sansa is s travesty. A Stark is being named King, which meant The North would be leading Westeros. How England and Scotland united under the rule of a Scottish King. But the showrunners liked Sansa to the point they made Bran King os all other kingdoms but the one he was the heir.  
> 12- Again, the fact the show starts with "cocks are important" just drives the message home. Daenerys is not only a woman, but a strong woman with opinions and dragons.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How are Tyrion, Sansa and Arya doing?
> 
> Not that well, as it happens.

**The Red Keep, 306 A.C**

Lord Tyrion Lannister had lost many of his appetites in the past five years, but his thirst for wine would never be quenched.

He had way too many problems not to drink.

Naturally, Tyrion took care never to appear  _ too _ drunk at the Small Council´s meeting- not that King Bran would ever notice, since he was seldom there- but Tyrion was man who respected appearances and sanctity of his position.

At first, this arrangement between the King and its Hand had worked beautifully. 

In Tyrion´s estimation, at least.

But now? He knew better than to fool himself. 

People started talking….nobles stopped responding to letters...slowly, but surely, without a strong figurehead, The Crown had lost much of its prestige- if there had been any left since the reign of Cersei.

Of course, the annals would blame everything on Daenerys, who had the decency to die without naming an heir and since she was the last of her line, nobody in Westeros would defend her honor and legacy.

Tyrion saw that Cersei and Jaime received a more... _sympathetic_ treatment. He allowed Grandmaester Tarly, a dear friend, to mention the _ rumors  _ about their relationship in his book, as long as he downplayed her involvement with the Faith Militant fiasco and Jaimes less than honorable´s actions during the Siege of Riverrun.

With luck, all those nobles who knew the truth about Cersei would soon die. Tyrion knew for sure that the smallfolk of King´s Landing, those who witnessed her wickedness, were dying already, so in a couple more years the secrets of House Lannister would be safe.

***

Tyrion Lannister was a sick man.

It had always bothered him, to an extent, but his wealth more than covered for any inconveniences his condition brought him. 

Still, as the years passed, his ailments just worsened.

He was born not only a dwarf, but a deformed one. In his travels in Essos, Tyrion had seen some of his kind who were not of the monstrous specimen, but well proportioned, tiny humans.

Eventually, those ailments would catch up with him, this he knew, but Tyrion hoped not before he was able to finish his life´s work.

The restoration of House Lannister.

For a time, he thought Daenerys would have been capable to achieve much, and Tyrion gladly allied himself to her. So did Varys, but eventually, she proved to be  _ too _ smart for both men. 

She won every time she ignored their advice and lost every time she followed them. 

They looked incompetent and neither liked this look.

So, the theory went that Daenerys was mad. This was, of course, open for debate. Varys had always claimed Robert Baratheon was a disaster because he had no intention to be King, but faced with a woman who not only intended to be Queen but to rule, The Spider bowed out. 

Varys claimed he had seen signs...during Winterfell´s festivities. Daenerys being jealous. That this was how it started with her father and Lord Lannister. 

Varys, however, knew nothing about being in love. He was a eunuch. 

Daenerys was hurt by her lover´s indifference- that The North loved him more was just an added insult. 

Tyrion tried to argue, but Varys was adamant. Jon was weak, Daenerys strong. A possible marriage, even one of convenience, between the two, according to Varys, would lead to disaster because Daenerys would not listen to  _ them _ \- to Varys and to Tyrion.

Varys came to the conclusion then that Daenerys had to be eliminated- and that Jon, who had no interest in ruling but was dutiful to a fault, would make an amazingly malleable King.

Varys died. Jaime returned. And Tyrion had to make a choice: fail Daenerys again, or try to save himself and his family.

King´s Landing had not been completely destroyed. They wrote in the Annals that Daenerys, the Mad, burnt more than ⅔ of the city, when in fact, she was directly responsible for not even half of this.

The wildfire- the ever-burning wildfire- even in smaller quantities had done the city more damage than the Dragon had.

But this truth, of course, would have to be tampered with. Daenerys had done it- there was no denying it. The reasons behind this decision- and the real effects on the city- were what Tyrion Lannister said they were: the end result of a clear descent into madness of a tyrant who came from lands beyond the Sea. 

The Red Keep was to be Daenerys Harrenhal. Tyrion was not stupid- he could see the idea had merit. By the Seven, he was Tywin´s son. Tywin Lannister would have been lauded as a ruthless genius if he had done it- but Daenerys? She was a woman. She was a Targaryen.

She was the perfect villain to the story Tyrion Lannister wanted to tell.

_ Brandon Stark, on the other hand… _

No, it had not been planned. Tyrion was indeed overcome with grief when he saw his siblings and lost his mind for a second. Had Daenerys really been that mad and a tyrant, she would have killed him right there- and then, the story would be different. 

But what did she do? She imprisoned Tyrion and was preparing to trial him. 

Even during her so-called “mad rage”, Daenerys Targaryen followed with the conventions of the land and would have granted Tyrion Lannister a public trial and execution.

This was her mistake. Following the Law. 

Tyrion knew he was guilty and what awaited him.

But Tyrion was, above all things, a survivor

So, Tyrion improvised. He used Jon´s grief and confusion to his advantage and prayed for the best possible outcome. 

Jon did not disappoint- oh, no, he played his part beautifully, the fool- and from there on...

Brandon Stark had not only the name, the connections but also Magic. 

Tyrion was a dwarf; he hated being a dwarf. But he was the last Lannister of Tywin´s line- there was a multitude of cousins, yes, but Tyrion cared nothing for them. 

Ever since Tyrion saw the miracle that Dragons were, he came to believe that Magic was, in fact, one of the forces of this world.

His best chances at survival, Tyrion concluded, were to enter into an alliance with a magical house.

And, in the absence of dragons...wolves would do.

Lannisters had no Magic in them.

***

Magical or not, now that Tyrion was the only Lannister that mattered, he needed to further the line.

However smart Tyrion considered himself to be, he knew the truth. 

He was hideous.

The last thing he wanted was to father seven dwarves…

***

Brandon The Broken, Tyrion named him. A King. One who could protect Westeros if more Magical calamities claimed the Realm...a King with Powers he, Tyrion, could barely understand.

Someone who could help Tyrion to have healthy children of his blood and name...and someone who would allow Tyrion to rule.

A perfect match.

***

Alas, it was not to be.

The boy heard him, but that was it.

When Brandon, the Broken, deigned to sit on the new WeirwoodThrone to hear grievances, he would not rule, but simply stats what he had seen it- and made sure it would come to pass.

“I have seen your death.” The cold boy said to a mother being accused of stealing to feed her children. “ and is tonight.”

Brandon Stark had no ideas. Brandon Stark had no emotions. Brandon Stark had no interests. 

All Brandon Stark did was to sit, and see and make sure the things he saw would come to pass.

“Well, this way, even I can say I am a Seer.“ 

Bronn quipped one day. Tyrion knew it was true. 

This was a problem and Tyrion brought the issue one afternoon. 

"When we spoke at Winterfell...about your Powers...you said…”

“What I see is what it is,” Brandon said in a monotone. “ I still have no answer for your problem, my Lord. I will look for a solution, _ after  _ I find the dragon. You are excused, my Lord Hand.”

Tyrion was lost. 

The greatest advantage of Brandon Stark- his ability to just sit there and do nothing- now worked against House Lannister. 

***

Tyrion needed an heir and even if King Bran had not seen it happened, he had also not said it would not happen.

_ I will never have an heir if I all I do is sit on my chair and drink. There is no hope if I do not even try it. _

At that time, Tyrion allowed himself to swim in the easy tides of optimism, found a proper, noble bride (something that not even Lord Tywin Lannister had managed to do in his lifetime) and spent the next months diligently trying for an heir.

Unfortunately, neither his previous bride or the present one managed to give Tyrion what he truly desired: the continuation of his House.

***

His first ( third?) wife was a distant cousin from the Lannisport branch- a widow with three children to care for. Tyrion himself had negotiated the contract. She was from a very distant line, is true, but a Lannister nevertheless, and after losing everything to the war, the prospect of bedding a rich, powerful, but half man held some appeal...

Three years later and no sign of pregnancy. He could not afford to waste time. Tyrion dispatched Marei Lannister to a motherhouse soon after. By all accounts, his former wife was content. She had to be, as Tyrion more than kept to his word: her two daughters had already been contracted to marry and their dowries, paid, and her son was squiring for Lord Lydden.

Lord Lannister married for the fourth time a noblewoman from The Vale. Another widow of bearing age with offspring of her own- proved fertility was a must.

A year had passed…

and no heir.

***

Now, alone in his chambers with his wine for company, Tyrion Lannister had to face his mistakes.

Westeros had never been a place of peace, but small squabbles between nobles of different regions were everyday business now. This was, of course, unacceptable. Nobody should break the King´s Peace and not suffer consequences.

However, with a King like Brandon Stark...soon, nobody cared to come to the Capital to air their grievances. 

Tyrion supposed this... _inability_ of the King to do what kings did- to rule - could be circumvented, if not for the highly inefficient Small Council- the one he himself, Tyrion Lannister, had appointed.

Having not even finished a full year of education, Grandmaster Tarly was considered a poor choice by The Citadel. In fact, as soon as the announcement was made, The Conclave and the Hightowers protested. 

And kept protesting ever since, by refusing to send the Red Keep Maesters trained in healing and engineering to aid Samwell because, as they put it “ A Grandmaster who forged only ONE link before being granted such honour is clearly a genius in all matters. “

Samwel Tarly, best intentions aside, was _ not _ a genius. He was an intelligent, well-read man, but his inexperience in matters concerning real-life showed every time he opened his mouth.

Like every time he came to the Small Council with his common Law wife, Gilly.

The Citadel’s passive war against The Crown had many negative effects. Nobles traveling on business to the Red Keep knew had to bring their own Maesters- or dare pay the going rate of a street barber, which was what Tyrion had been doing lately.

“Why don´t you simply hire someone from Pentos to come over from time to time like everyone else?” Bronn, a simple man of simple tastes one day asked Tyrion.

“Because it would send a wrong message- that we do not trust GrandMaester Tally.”

It had been a small scandal, of course. The Lord Hand had hired a genius Maester for council but imported learned men from Pentos to handle his ailments.

Tyrion Lannister had to set an example- and his health had been paying the price.

“Well, when it comes to _ my _ body parts- I do not trust the fatty one bit.” 

Tyrion would have laughed, had not been true. Samwell could sew wounds, yes, but he was as reckless in his curiosity. 

Always anxious to prove new healing techniques, Samwell forgot about learning the basics. He had become overconfident because he once saved a patient of a fatal disease at The Citadel, and took to ignore safety measures ever since.

In their second year, a good half of the servants at the Red Keep- and a couple of nobles- died of a strange fever before Samwell did anything to put a stop to it

***

Bronn however, was the last person who could criticize the Grandmaster for his failings. 

The former sellsword not only did not understand anything about being a Master of Coin, but he never made any attempt at learning it. 

Tyrion had truly believed Bronn could have been an asset. If not an expert on Finances, at least Broon would be able to charm the Bankers of the Iron Bank, or even convince some nobles to part with their money, and fund many of the repairs they were planning since the vaults were empty mayhaps?

How wrong Tyrion was. 

What he personally found endearing in Bronn, others found repulsive. Nobles and merchants alike agreed on one thing: Bronn of the Blackwater was an upstart who had no business serving the Crown, and they would not trust him to go anywhere near their gold.

Despite this failure, Tyrion, would not fire the former sellsword. Giving him the position was also a way of making Bronn seem more presentable to the Lords of The Reach, where his rule was far from accepted...not to mention that firing him would make others question why he had been given the position in the first place.

The situation, however, in Tyrion´s estimation, was salvageable. There were a couple of capable bookkeepers still alive, from the old days of Littlefinger, who were more than able to oversee the day to day business and appraise Tyrion of the situation

Another reason for keeping Bronn nearby was that Tyrion needed a friend and an ally, someone clueless enough to never make waves and whose interests could always be bought.

***

Ser Davos Seaworth, however, was neither a friend nor a corrupt nobleman.

And because of those qualities, Seaworth was the first to leave.

***

“While I understand the need for brothels, Lord Bronn “ Ser Davos said one day, not even a full year into the new Regimen “ after all the tragedies that befell the Kingdom, there is also a need for a place of prayer and worship. The people ask for a Sept to be built. They think all the tragedies of the last year were punishments from the Seven...for the destruction of the Sept of Balor.”

The King, as usual, made himself scarce- not before stating he was no follower of the Seven, and did not want to be involved in the project.

Tyrion noticed that Ser Brienne and Ser Podrick both bit their lips, but said nothing.

The Lord Hand knew this was a mistake.

After all, Bran the Broken, although not a follower of the Seven, had been happily reaping the benefits of those who took the Vows. There were no better people to serve him than the Knights of the Kingsguard, the ones who only stayed because they followed the Seven and considered taking the Seven Oils sacred.

Ser Davos had the grace to wait until the King was out of Sight to show his displeasure. 

“ His Grace does not need to be involved, although he should. He might not follow the Faith, but his subjects do.  I suppose it could mostly be done privately. Many rich families would be happy to donate if given the proper credit. House Lannister, in particular, could use the opportunity to show the populace the mistakes of their past leaders will stay in the past.”

Lord Tyrion had to concede defeat. The mines of The Rock were not as profitable, yes, but their vaults were full. Daenerys had plans to heavily penalize Tyrion´s House for starting a war, which would be the logical thing to do, but Bran the Broken, as expected, cared very little for logic, and never even dared suggest it.

Tyrion cleared his throat: “I will privately discuss the matter with His Grace, and, with his blessing, House Lannister will fund half of the expenses, my Lord Davos.”

***

It took them two moon turns to finally convince Bran to allow a Sept to be built.

Outside the City Walls, as to not offend his northern sensibilities.

By then, Ser Davos had been already gone.

But he did not leave without saying his mind. 

***

“I read the book our Grandmaester- the one with only one link- wrote about the war. The Song of Ice and Fire. ”

Tyrion Lannister had personally approved of the Book. It told no lies, only half trues- their side of the truth, to be blunt- and in reading it, Tyrion could  _ almost _ believe he was a good person, a decent man who, in the end, made the best choice.

Personally, he could not deny that Bran´s rule had been, so far... _disappointing_. 

The way Bran explained his Powers, Tyrion thought they would be invincible.

But the boy was never really _there_. The boy had no charisma, no interest in even being a puppet. 

All Bran Stark cared was to find the Dragon- and to kill it.

Which was just fine by Tyrion, but it did not make his job easy.

The idea of writing the book had been a lifesaver. Tyrion valued books and knowledge. He knew that, as long he controlled the narrative, the truth would be what he told.

It served him as consolation to know that The Song of Ice and Fire would be read generations to come. Even if he was not loved in the present, or that his rule was shaping up to be a mediocre one, Tyrion would be remembered as a war hero.

Tyrion poured himself some more wine, because, for Davos tone, he would need it.

“ Any objections?”

“No, no objections- just my resignation.” Davos threw a piece of parchment at Tyrion, who started reading the boring document. “ Westeros could have had a good queen and just king, had we all done out parts and not allowed  _ your _ sister to have any more second chances. It is  _ your _ fault, Imp.”

Trust Davos to say it to his face, Tyrion thought bitterly: 

“The tyrant, you mean? Mad Queen Daenerys? I thought you had grown at King´s Landing- the city she destroyed.”

_ “I was there _ , Imp.” Davos said, his face now red with anger. “ The day your _father_ came inside these walls and had his men rape and pillage. _ I was there _ . I saw what Lord Lannister did- he burnt all the routes of escape so that The City Watch had to fight and not regroup or call for reinforcements.

What Daenerys did was the same thing your father did before. She used Dragonfire, yes, to trap the Lannister´s forces and flew to make the Red Keep her Harrenhal. Ruthless, yes, but not mad. She wanted to annihilate the Lannister forces inside, to send a message, to stop the war. Innocents would be killed? Yes, but it was war, and those innocents were there as meat shields to your sister.

Even the caskets of wildfire...those your Grandmaester want us believe were not more lethal than the dragonfire.  _ I was there _ . The day they exploded and the weeks they continued to burn.”

Davos was, of course, right: the greatest destruction was indeed caused by the wildfire. The green flames burned, and burned and burned and expanded, the toxic smoke traveling distances and poisoning the smallfolk.

“The wildfire of King Aerys...Daenerys father.” Tyrion offered with a distressed voice.” We all knew there was wildfire. Even Daenerys. I told her about her father. She knew about the Sept. Even if we consider it an accident...she caused them to explode.”

Davos, despite lacking formal education, was an intelligent man who had survived wars and service under Stannis Baratheon, a man known for rewarding merit, not birth.

Lord Seaworth knew better than to trust the word of Tyrion. He trusted his own eyes...and his experience. He had always believed Jon and Daenerys´s rule would be a second golden age for Westeros- Jaehaerys and Alysanne come again.

Davos had time in his solitude, to research...to ask questions.

The Song of Ice and Fire was a lie: “ Your sister, the Whore Queen. moved away great quantities of wildfire from the Red Keep, into strategic locations. She was the cause of the explosions. That Daenerys, a dragopnrider, would use her dragon was obvious. Cersei knew it and used it to gain time to escape.

We all knew Aerys Targaryen was mad. The wildfire was under the Red Keep...because he wanted to _burn with the Fire and be reborn as a Dragon._

But the Red Keep did not burn in its entirely- not like it would have, had Cersei not changed the wildfire. You know as well as I do that Daenerys barely destroyed half of the Red Keep…

No, my Lord Tyrion, your sister held the city hostage and had spread the thing, as far away as possible from her. She had already burnt the Great Sept and it had worked splendily for her. There was a route of escape she tried to use while the wildfire spread fear among the smallfolk and surprised our Forces. It would have worked, if not for a certain Hound…

I am happy they died. I am happy your sister and your brother died, my Lord. They were evil people. You were right- everywhere Daenerys Targaryen went, evil men died. You would have been the next. That is why you had Jon kill her- for you to survive.”

It took a moment for Tyrion to recompose himself. He knew the acusations were true. 

He knew it, but would never admit it

“The book is written; the ink is dry. We have our King- any other word is treason, my Lord Seaworth...

My sister...I will give you that she was no true Queen, nor a good one, but she was pregnant. Daenerys not only killed men that day, but she also butchered innocent, unborn…”

Davos, almost by the door, snorted, interrupting his nemesis: 

“Spare me your sentimentality, Lord Lannister- do you forget I served under King Stannis? That baby in your sister´s belly was as dead as Rhaenys and Aegon were when your father, Lord Lannister, entered the city. Why do you suddenly have scruples about killing innocents? Ah...because it was done against your family!

The first order of King Robert- the one this book paints as the next coming of The Warrior- was to send Stannis himself to kill a newborn girl and her young brother, my Lord Tyrion. Stannis did not like it, but knew his Duty: those children were a threat to His King, and he would have killed them. Stannis got to keep his soul that day, only to lose it to the Red Woman- and even there, my Lord Tyrion...even when King Stannis did something repulsive...he did it because he believed it would save his men from starvation.

What your sister and brother were doing all those years...how many thousands had to pay for their sins? They could have ran away. But no...she wanted to be Queen. And he wanted to fuck her. And neither cared for the thousands who died because they lied.

No, Lord Tyrion...killing your sister and that monster baby she was carrying was the best thing Daenerys Targaryen has ever done.”

No matter how many bottles of wine Tyrion Lannister drank that night...he could not forget Davos words.

***

**Winterfell, 306 A.C**

“Did my uncle, Lord Tully, send a reply, Maester Wolkan?”

“No, your Grace.”

Sansa Stark had played- and won- the Game of Thrones, but her Crown came at huge cost.

Luckily, northerners were as set in their ways as Sansa had been in making herself Queen. 

For generations, when Winter came, Northerners would go to the snows to die, leaving more food for the women and children. 

Sansa knew they continued to do so in her reign, and although thankful for their sacrifices, she had wished her reign to be one of plenty, her name known for the future generations as the Good, the Fair and the Just Queen Sansa of House Stark.

Sansa was doing everything in her power to see her people thrive, but being cut out of the Seven Kingdoms had made the other six less  _ charitable _ towards The North.

“What about my cousin, the Lord of the Vale?”

“The Vale is fertile, Your Grace, but due to their geography, they have very little to spare. The weather, also, as you know, has not been exactly kind.”

Sansa nodded. Many assumed the seasons would realign after the White Walkers were dealt with and, for a time, it seemed so. 

Sansa remembers the lessons taught be Maester Luwin: one year should have four seasons. Some areas of Essos still had, she was told.

Why Westeros was living exactly, like before- or mayhaps, even worse?

The weather stabilized in a permanent state of frost, at least In The North. They could see the Sun- mild, not warm, behind clouds- and the nights were not as freezing cold as a real Winter, but still...it was no weather conducive to farming.

The situation in the south, it seems, was better, but barely. 

The Reach did have some surplus, yes...but their Lord Paramount would only sell it for an obscene price.

The North had no money to spare: “We live in trying times, no doubt.” 

Sansa Stark fell into a silence. 

Had all been worth it? 

She had no regrets about Northern Independency and knew her subjects would agree with her, but…

_Water under the bridge, as they say_. Sansa was a Queen and doubting herself would only invite trouble- the memory of a certain Dragon Queen flashing through her mind.

***

Another day, another problem.

“Please, Maester Wolkan, send this raven to Castle Black.” Jon Snow, her half brother, had disappeared again.

Sansa had learned not to worry about Jon, but still...it would be a scandal. People of The North took anything related to The Wall  _ very  _ seriously. They might have fought with the wildlings against a common enemy, but The Wall stood now as a border between Sansa´s kingdom and the Free Lands…

The last thing Sansa needed was the smallfolk gossiping about her ignoring the matter of a Black Brother´s desertion and nobles she saying was neglecting the defense of their lands...

_ Jon _ . Sansa was always uncomfortable when thinking about his half brother. She almost had lost everything because of Jon…

No matter, Sansa thought. In the end, Jon made the  _ right _ choice. 

Jon chose the Starks and killed the only one who could have threatened them.

North or South, there was no place for Daenerys Targaryen- and her people- in Westeros.

It was for the best that the Dragon Queen died, Sansa thought.

But even better was that Jon made no fuss about his claim not being considered.

Sure, Jon had murdered a Queen, but Westeros... could forgive many things.

Just look at Jaime Lannister, who kept his white cloak or all those years  _ after _ having killed a King himself. 

Jon could very well become King, Sansa knew...all he had to do was to press his claim, but this never crossed the poor fool´s mind.

_ Jon,always so naive. _

Once upon a time, Sansa Stark had been as naive as Jon Snow. 

As naive and as stupid.

***

Jon could have had it all. 

A throne. A beautiful Queen. A family.

All he had to do was to claim his Targaryen heritage, marry his aunt and be done with it.

Jon was so easy to manipulate. Had he ever  _ really _ loved Daenerys?

Sansa was of mind that if you wanted something, you better be ready to pay the price. 

Had Jon truly loved Daenerys, he should have  _ made _ them accept her. 

Sansa pushed...to see how far Jon would go. He never ordered her to kneel...never demanded her, or the northerners, to respect the Queen he chose.

Jon asked her... _ politelly _ .

Obviously, Sansa ignored him.

***

In matters of Love, of course, Sansa would be the first to admit she was not well versed. 

Due to her previous ...experiences, Sansa was hesitant in taking a third husband. In fact, she had successfully avoided the subject for the first years of her rule, but eventually, the pressure was too great and she gave in

Sansa was Queen and with the Crown, came responsibilities. 

So it was that a year and a half ago, Sansa agreed to wed.

Brandon Talhart was of good northern stock and very close to her age- and there stopped the similarities between Sansa and her Consort. 

Regardless of her personal opinion, Sansa was not searching for the perfect husband. She needed heirs. Succession for Winterfell was, at that point, uncertain. Jon had no claims over Winterfell, Bran was in the South and could not father children- as Sansa had correctly pointed out -and Arya…

Arya could not be counted on to further the line.

All things considered, Brandon  _ was _ the best option available to Sansa. There were not many unwed men of noble blood who had survived the wars , so she accepted her fate, the best way she could, under the circumstances

Sansa commissioned Maester Wolkam to map her periods. She had heard of it in the South, of how women could enhance their possibilities to conceive by observing their cycles, learning the days when conception had a higher chance to happen. 

Dutifully, Sansa laid with Brandon during those days - and  _ only _ during those days.

Nobody complained. Sansa was still young and Brandon...virile. There was a girl back at Torhen Square. A bastard of one of Brandon´s uncles. Sansa did not care to know her name- she did not matter.

But the boy she had given birth to, whom Brandon cruelly named Jon, was a reminder that the blame for House Stark currently having no heir most probably laid with Sansa.

Even Lady Lyra Mormont- Lyra, who had only survived the war because she had been too sick at The Neck with greywater fever to fight- had given birth to a healthy son. She had not been expected to ever be able to, and yet, Lyra Mormont held the future of her House in her arms, while Sansa…

Sansa sat by the fire and wrote letters to other rulers begging for food.

***

**Old Valyria**

The children took quickly to Jon. 

Or Aegon, as he now demands to be called.

He is a good provider, Daenerys will give him the well-earned credit. He hunts, he fixes things around the house, he trains both children at arms…

He fucks Daenerys with wild abandon.

He never brings up the fact she killed him. He has always been this silent type, stoic, moody. It had attracted Daenerys once, but now she finds his silences oppressive, and his presence...unnerving.

***

“You do not want me here.” Aegon finally says one day as the children are bathing nearby. “You loathe me.”

Daenerys had never been one for denying the truth.

“Yes, I do.”

“ I deserve it.” There is no reaction to the confession- no signs of distress in Aegon´s face “Should I leave you, my Lady?”

“No--- you should stay. You are the burden I need to carry. I killed innocent people. Justified or not, war or not, I killed more people than I should have that day.”

Aegon flinches. War is something they both avoid discussing it. 

“ Why do you allow me to share your bed? Why you never refuse my attention if I am so offensive?”

“I am human. I have needs.” Daenerys had always been a sensual woman. She took lovers from both sexes, she always found a way to pleasure herself, even alone as she had been all those years. 

“ You must stay with us. We are a family. The children love you already and I cannot take this way from them.”

“Aye, I will stay. I will never leave you.” Aegon waved at the children- it was getting late and soon, it would be dark “ One day, Daenerys, I will prove to you that I truly renounced everything that came before us. I am not the weak man you met in Westeros.”

“You were not weak when I met you, Aegon...you started being weak when we went North.”

He knows is true.

***

“We should clean this lands...rid Valyria of the shadows, once and for all.”

Aegon agrees in theory but knows nothing of Magic. He smiles. _ I know nothing _ .  _ Ygritte was right. _

“Are there people with Magic strong enough to clean the lands, Dany?”

She does not protest anymore when he calls her Dany. It does not bother her, she tells herself. The children like them both together. They think their parents love each other.

_ Mayhaps one day...one day I will love him. Aegon. _

“No matter of strength. The curse will be lifted when the past is in the past. Magic has cursed this lands for a reason, Aegon. dark Magic, blood Magic , the torture of slaves. It could not sustain itself, and it burned.”

For centuries, no men or women who visited Valyria came back- before her: “ I think the reason the lands accept me and those of my blood is because I redeemed my family. By freeing the slaves, I paid the debts of my ancestors.”

“We should continue then- your work. Freeing more slaves and allowing them free pass to settle New Valyria. We have dragons. Whoever complains about us severing the bonds of those enslaved, is a Master, and Masters are despicable people. Evil Men Should Die.”

For the first time in months, Daenerys feels something akin to sympathy for the man before her. 

_ This man is not Jon Snow anymore, but Aegon reborn. He finally understands.  _ “Before I came to Westeros, Volantis called for me. I ignored their calls and paid the price. My mission was never to save Westeros from Ice Monsters, but to save the world from Evil Men.”

Indeed, it was. The White Walkers roamed the world, not for long, and this when the world was young and not many people lived. Then, they went into hibernation and for thousands of years they were not a threat, but men continued to kill, enslave and torture other men.

Even their rule of Terror after they crashed The Wall was too, short-lived. 

The War of the Five Kings alone killed more people than the White Walkers ever did in their History.

We, humans, are the real monsters.

The Valyrians enslaved people with Dragons. It is only fitting, Jon thinks, that the last dragonlords would use their weapons to rectify the wrongs of their race, and free their lands from the curse.

“ _ There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and  _ [ _ the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world _ ](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Night_that_never_ends) _. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be  _ [ _ Lightbringer _ ](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Lightbringer) _ , the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him” _

The Second Long Night never extended to the world. It was a sad, but local affair. 

But the darkness...darkness had descended upon the world.

A Sun that does not shine bright enough.

Lands too cold…

Everywhere, but Valyria.

***

After the Army of the Dead was defeated, and they crowned Brandon Stark precisely because Brandon was shielded against all emotions- from the coldness of hatred to the warmth of love - the whole world suffered under a mist.

The Sun was there, but hidden. The temperature dropped everywhere, not enough to call it a winter, but enough to damage crops.

Sansa mentioned even Dorne had been affected by this “ mildness”, lemons even harder to come by...

Aegon also knew now that the Dragons were supposed to be dead, slavers were making their moves. The Dothraki indeed freed many slaves, who then joined their numbers, but they focused more in threatening cities and collecting their bribes than in liberating peoples...

Meereen remained steadfast in their ban of slavery, but day by day, the idea was losing traction.

Even Braavos looked the other way around. They would never directly deal in the slave trade, but they accepted the gold of those who profited from the odious practice.

The Dragons came back for a reason- and the reason was clear.

“We should prepare. We should go to Volantis.”

***

Daenerys is afraid, not for her, but for her children.

“We are in hiding. We are safe here. Our dragons are growing, strong and kind. If we make our move now,  _ they _ will know.”

“Visenya and Jaehaerys deserve more than to spend their lives as fugitives.” Aegon thought that, apart from the King´s Landing debacle, they have done nothing wrong. 

Therefore, they should not be in hiding.

” Daenerys, you made a mistake. A mistake that cost thousands of lives, yes, but not much different from what the men of Westeros have been doing for thousands of years. The only wrong in this situation was that...I took your life for it.

And they lie. You saved more lives than you took. They lie to Westeros but we know. We stay in Essos. We go to Volantis. We free the slaves. We return home…

But If  _ they dare _ come for us...then we will make them regret ever being born.”

***

**Volantis, 306 A.C**

The Red Priestess Kinvara and the Widow of the Waterfront- a former bed slave named Pavarta- received Daenerys, Aegon and their Dragons with open arms.

“We have been waiting, Princess,” The old woman said as she showed Daenerys a map to the city.” It took you years, but you came nevertheless. We are in your debt.”

Word spread like wildfire. Daenerys and Aegon, the last dragonlords, were allowed inside the Black Walls to parlay with the Old Blood. 

As expected, the slaver took the westerosi lies to heart.

That Daenerys was a tyrant, a butcher, a woman mad with power.

And they were scared. That she would do the same. That she would burn their manses, their palaces, their gold...that she would burn it all.

This served Daenerys purposes just fine. 

“Free the slaves now and I will grant you pardon for all your past crimes. Hire the slaves back, pay them wages they can live on and I will allow you to live. Refuse, and I will burn Volantis, as I burnt King´s Landing.”

Some suggested the slaves to pay reparations towards their freedom- work for free a couple of days a week, until the debt was settled- but Daenerys refused: she was already going against her convictions offering an umbrella pardon for The Old Blood because she wanted peace, but she had learned from her mistakes.

Daenerys would never buy an easy Peace when the cost was the suffering of others.

***

“Now we need to establish ourselves at Volantis, to oversee the transition, lest the Old Blood will revert to their old ways the moment we turn our backs on them.”

The plan had not changed. They would return to New Valyria and settle the area. The dragons would protect their people from invaders and slavers alike and they would rule, with the assistance of a Council that would be elected by universal vote.

But Volantis, as Meereen before it, should become a guiding light, an example to be followed. Many in Essos believed their culture and economy too heavily tied with slavery for this new idea to succeed, but Daenerys had learned the Elites were nothing if not adaptable- and they would never really go away entirely.

“They will  _ always _ find a way to make life difficult for the small folk, and to claw their ways into Power, but we cannot expect to change their nature. We are all humans and prone to imperfection. What we can, and will do, is to make the world a better place...better than before. Hopefully, the future generations will pick up from where we left off and mayhaps in some centuries... everybody will be born free and equal.”

But they could not expect to do all by themselves. If they wanted their dream to come true during their lifetime, Daenerys and Aegon would need allies- and Braavos was in great position to offer them their support.

***

**Braavos, 307 A.C**

The ship with the Stark banner was allowed entrance after the inspection, finally docking at Ragman´s Harbour, a place its Captain, Arya Stark, knew only  _ too _ well.

While Braavos held a special place in Arya´s heart, she knew not to linger. The House of Black and White took not so lightly to people like her, deserters of the Order. She had passed her tests, Jacqen had allowed her to go free, but she doubted the Kindly man would take kindly to the news of her sudden arrival.

But Arya thought she owed this respite to her crew. They had mostly stuck by her for six years, and now they wanted the comforts of home. 

Although they were sworn to her and Her House, Arya knew when not to push people; she could no longer impose her wills on her crew and expect them not to rebel just because of her name and what she had done during the war- a war many of the sailors did not believe it happened in the first place.

Not to mention that her expedition had proved to be a failure. What was west of Westeros was...Essos. A big land with people from Yi Ti- or at least, who looked like people from Yi Ti. They hated strangers and foreigners as much as the northerners did, had their own culture and ways, and resisted to Arya´s attempts at establishing some sort of commercial route- they dealt with their essosi counterparts who lived across the Jade Sea and only sporadically.

Although no westerosi- save for old Lord Velaryon - had ever dared to sail those waters, Arya´s people knew of them, so she could not claim any discovery.

Her expedition had been a waste of time.

***

Arya Stark had convinced a number of sailors to travel with her promising they would share the profits of the discoveries and, hopefully, come with word that the new lands were open for northerners to come and settle.

Her men had trusted her- the ones who had been with her when Arya killed that Ice Demon. Many people- herself included- came to believe there was nothing Arya Stark could  _ not _ do and so, other men joined.

She prepared for weeks. Sansa had agreed to fund the trip in lieu of Arya´s inheritance. Ned Stark had left some legacies to all his children- even Jon, something neither commented on as their brother was rejoining the Night´s watch anyway.

When all was set for them to sail, Arya felt she had reasons to be confident- and not only in her martial prowesses. She had always been a good pupil for Maester Luwin- the best, actually. The Stark children were not known to be especially bright- Sansa, the weakest of them all- but Arya had always been praised by Luwin and exceded at both intellectual and physical aspects of her education.

Learning came easy for her, especially for Languages. If they were to find new lands and new people, Arya hoped to be able to learn their Language and gain their trust in a relatively short amount of time.

***

The journey started well. They encountered no problems, and no pirates, while crossing Dorne, and, aside the cold reception at Oldtown  _ and  _ Pyke, morale was at a high point.

Arya was the nominal Captain of the ship, but this was only due to her being the noble onboard. She was learning the trade from a more experienced Captain, but the crew bowed to her nevertheless. 

The problems started after they left the Iron Islands.

While Arya had reasons to boast about her Geography accomplishments, she had not taken into consideration that westerosi maps were not as reliable as she expected and they got lost at the sea for weeks.

Had it not been for Lord Farwynd- who was used to those waters- they would have died. 

A strange man, Lord Gybert Farwynd was. 

“Aye...west of Westeros… a  land without winter beyond where death holds no sway and every man will be a king and his wife a queen. I know of it.”

Gylbert Farwynd of the Lonely Light supposedly warged whales. It should have been a sign to Arya that, if even a man with such powers, had not dared yet make the trip, that she should not attempt it.

Many were starting to believe this too. They had already almost died and barely left the Iron Islands- who was to say they would have suck good luck next time around? 

But Arya knew better. 

Against the judgment of her men, who mayhaps had thought she had been jesting when she told them her goal, Arya followed Lord Farwynd´s instructions…

Just to find nothing. 

Nothing but sea.

***

They got lost again. For weeks.

When even Arya thought all was lost, they finally made it somewhere and were rescued by a small boat, who took them to an island. The inhabitants helped them to a certain extent, Not unlike the northerners, they kept to themselves, spurned Arya´s attempts at learning their Language and their Culture, and after she left, they continued as they had lived for thousands of years: occasionally trading with the people of the steppes of Jogos Nhai, but otherwise isolated.

The most Arya could say of the experience was that she was the first westerosi who gone that far in centuries...and that was that.

No trade route established. No new lands found.

Only a very expensive and pointless vacation.

***

Their next stop was the Thousand Isles, a place so unworthy visiting that Arya wanted to sail again not even two days after they docked- but out of fresh water and supplies, there they stayed for a month. At some point, she even dared enter the woods to hunt, but again, nothing really came out of it.

When they finally arrived at Nefer, some of Arya crew accepted other offers, afraid of repeating the experiences of near starvation and sure death by following up a noble girl and her dreams, but by then she had learned not to expect much loyalty from sailors and allowed them to go undisturbed, as it seemed more prudent not to murder them all in their sleep. 

In the end, Arya like she always did, chose to be alone. The de facto Captain of the ship made gold by transporting goods while Arya traveled overland.

Arya spent the next three years and a half this way, either by foot or horse, roaming the lands and, sometimes even the seas of Essos. There, she dealt with the same people she refused to be associated with during her last stay home, as Starks were sure to do. She stayed long enough learning their ways just enough of, but never really engaging in real relationships or friendships with people that were not hers.

In other words, Arya Stark spent those years alone while in the company of others, as she had grown used to.

From the Red Waste, to Lhazar to the Dorhraki Sea, Arya Stark stumbled across those same copper-skinned people that had traveled under Daenerys Targaryen, the Mad Queen, only to die up North, to protect Winterfell.

Arya learned fast enough that nobody really cared for where she came from and she kept things that way. 

It annoyed her- she had saved the world- but it also suited her.

Arya had _ almost _ become no one.

Fame had never been her true goal, only survival.

Despite all this, Arya grew restless. Nobody was born out of Lady Catelyn Stark by accident. She took more after her father, Lord Eddard, yes but that only meant that she herself was a Lady. Like it or not, Arya was a noble. Her mind was far more open than of those of her blood- Sansa would never abide to sleep under the stars and have mud on her shoes- but Arya still received a great education and was proud of her 8.000 lineage.

At some point, even Arya knew it, she would tire and return home, because, it was all good to have adventures when not at Winterfell, but this never meant that Arya did forget she was a Stark.

Arya, the lone wolf- a wolf nevertheless.

***

There was another reason for Arya´s growing concern and distress during her travels.

People still spoke highly of Daenerys Targaryen in this part of the world.

How the Breaker of Chains freed the slaves.

How Mhysa had stayed behind when she could have gone to so that she could protect them.

How the Dragon Queen united all Khalasars, rode a dragon and went west, to defeat Ice Demons.

How the Stallion who Mounted the World disappeared in the skies, carrying the fallen Queen to be reborn…

Or how Daenerys, once returned, would dissipate the mists of frost by bringing back the red Sun...because the mild Sun in the skies was a false one, placed there by a Great Other just to fool people and doom them all to a long, long night, a night which would only end if the enemy was to be defeated...

This bothered Arya especially.

The fight had already been fought- and won.

The enemy- Daenerys- had already been defeated.

She, Arya Stark of Winterfell, had brought the Dawn.

“I defeated the Long Night...I defeated the Ice Demons.”

Arya said that once, and people _ laughed _ at her.

The world was a big place. Arya knew that. The Long Night had happened, had it not?

But it had been only _one_ night- and not a long night at that, but a normal one. 

One battle. Two Armies. One winner.

And it was Arya who had saved them all. Not Daenerys.

***

The fact remained the people of Essos had not heard of the Starks, had no idea where Winterfell was, nor did they care.

Arya defeating the Ice Demon was a tale of The North. Not even of the whole of Westeros- other than a few surviving members of The Vale Army, who undoubtedly would spread the word- the Long Night had not been witnessed by many southron and remained a local event.

“The Grandmaester will write the tale. The new generations will learn how the North fought and defeated the Cold. How the Daughter of Winterfell saved the world.”

This made Arya proud. To know that her name would inspire other girls in the future like she herself had been inspired by Nymeria and Visenya Targ…

“No, that one had the taint in her- the taint of tyranny.”

***

A couple of years later, Arya had to concede the long night these people spoke of seemed not to the same long night she experienced in The North.

It sounded like the tales of Old Nan. The long night that seemed to never end. A time where people would be born and die without seeing the Sun; starvation due to failed crops and mothers smothering their children so they would no longer suffer ...

Arya had not really noticed until a day when she finally look to the skies.

The sun was  _ there _ .

It was weak, cold, mostly hidden by dark clouds, yes, but it was  _ there. _

_ *** _

Arya smiled. _ Fools, the lot of them _

Raised under the Sun, they simply did not know the cold.

For them, this was a Winter- a harsh, never-ending Winter.

But not for Arya Stark. She was made of stronger stock.

The Daughter of Winterfell.

The cold never bothered  _ her _ .

***

Arya stayed only but a couple of days in Braavos.

The House of Black and White would surely hear of her if she let her guard down, so Arya remained hidden under a disguise, avoiding going out as much as possible.

But on her last night, when Arya did join her men for a meal at a tavern, she heard the  _ strangest _ of rumors.

The Dragon Queen was reborn. She sent envoys from Volantis to Braavos to negotiate an alliance. She had found lands of unimaginable fertility, where the Sun shines and the rains came at the right time...and she wanted to populate those lands and make them bloom.

The Dragon Lands.

It was the same queen who had freed the slaves of Volantis. There, Arya heard, the Queen remained. She was not sitting on a Throne atop a Pyramid like in Meerreen, bu took residence outside the Black Walls of Volantis, from where she controlled the Free City with the help of her family.

The Dragon, they said, had found a mate. 

***

**Volantis, 307 A.C**

Arya Stark had no problems infiltrating the Dragon Queen´s camp.

It was as Arya had feared all those years.

Daenerys was alive.

Jon had allowed the bitch to live.

Arya sighed. Jon could not even finish the job properly. It was as Sansa had warned her, Arya cursed under her breath.

Jon was in thrall of the Dragon bitch.

Arya was disgusted. Men could be so weak when sex was concerned. 

Gendry was proof of that. For Arya, the experience was just something to cross out of her book- not really pleasurable, or rewarding. But for Gendry? The poor man had fallen in love and proposed.

Men were stupid.

Arya reminded herself that not all was lost. Westeros was in good hands- in the hands of people who would not be manipulated through sex- and now that she learned about Jon´s failure she herself would take care of things.

Truth be told, at first, Arya had been unconvinced, but thank the Old Gods- and Tyrion Lannister- they did the right thing by placing Brandon, who was not a man, in the South and allowing Sansa, who was a woman uninterested in pursuing such urges, up North.

Arya had never understood romantic love. Family love, yes, she understood because she had witnessed firsthand at Winterfell. When she told Gendry they could be a family, she meant every word of it. Arya had no interest in marrying or birthing children herself, but living as a pack had had a certain appeal and once, she had been tempted into giving it a try. 

Had Gendry taken her up on her offer back then...mayhaps Arya could have understood romantic love by experiencing it. Instead, life had forced her into one direction and, after killing so many people as she had, this idea of love - and the faint longing for it- died a painful death.

Love was indeed a Poison like Cersei had told Sansa.

***

Any love other than those uniting Arya to her siblings was a weakness in her eyes and for a moment there, wearing a face that was not hers, serving wine to that silver-haired bitch guests, Arya had been thankful that Jon, although certainly incompetent when it came to putting the rabid dog down, had remained loyal to the Starks.

Until her eyes saw  _ him. _

***

Aegon, he was now calling himself.

Not even a King, as he could have been, but a Consort. Arya was angry at him- at his weakness, at his lack of ambition, at his betrayal.

They had plans to settle Old Valyria and breed dragons there. In her childhood, Arya had loved to hear tales of dragons- until she saw one. They were monsters- fire breathing monsters- and their riders, abominations.

Many of the freed slaves of Volantis had already pledged their Alliance to Daenerys and Jon and would be joining the Targaryens at their scorched lands instead of staying at Volantis and working for their old masters for wages..

Arya was disgusted by the self-serving cruelty.

Once again, Daenerys Targaryen had come to a city, freed slaves through fire and gained an Army for free.

(That Arya did not see any sign of destruction by fire at Volantis had not exactly changed her mind about Daenerys methods- she was sure the bitch had tortured and burnt many of the Old Blood to achieve her goals.)

Arya observed them at the high table, eyes as cold as a wight´s heart. They were both the enemy now. Jon had not only failed at his test, but he was now sleeping with his aunt.

Jon was lost to them.

The math was clear. Daenerys was deadly atop one dragon, imagine what she and Jon could to together?

Arya knew what to do- what she had to do to save Winterfell. 

To save Sansa and Brandon, her siblings.

She had already made peace with her decision when she saw two children. A boy and a girl. 

She knew immediately who those kids belonged to.

***

Arya was sick in her stomach. She had come all this way from Braavos to investigate the rumors and found them to be true. She had seen all she needed to see and would take action once again, put her skills as a Faceless Men to good use.

Always to good use.

Jon had betrayed the Starks the whole time. It had all been a ploy of him- pretend he had killed Daenerys, allowed himself to be captured by Greyworm- a savage loyal to the Dragon Queen- knowing that Arya would never stand idle if the Council demanded Jon´s head.

Arya had found it strange, that Greyworm had not interfered, but now it made sense. They could have easily killed all the nobles attending the Council if their plan went south. They left Westeros soon after and probably, had been reunited with Daenerys far East- Meereen probably?

Jon knew he would be sent to The Wall and from there, he could do as he pleased. Sansa was feeling guilty about  _ her _ betrayal- a small betrayal all things considered- and would not bother looking when he was declared a deserter of The Watch, exactly in time to join his Bitch Queen and prepare for war.

***

Arya would have to kill the dragon spawn.

The idea, Arya had to admit, unsettled her. 

How old were Jon´s children? 

Arya could not know- she never  _ liked _ children, not even as a child, so it was difficult to come to a number, but, in the end, it would not matter. 

It would be unfortunate, Arya agreed, but it was not like she had  _ not _ killed children before, 

and it would be for a good cause. 

Arya would make it quick and painless.

Even the Faceless Men would have scruples about going after a child- but they would do it, if the price was right. 

Not to mention, if Arya allowed her past feeling for Jon to interfere and agreed to spare his children, the cycle would not be broken. 

They would grow up and seek revenge- with dragons, because, even if Bran managed to kill all the beasts, there would be people to follow those siblings and mayhaps, who knows, even more dragon eggs to be found in Essos?

Arya also knew the lengths the Targaryens depravity could reach. Jon was fuckling his aunt. Jon had children with his aunt and, in time the brother would fuck his sister, get her with child and then, the cycle would repeat itself again.

As long as Targaryens were allowed in the world, dragons could be hatched and the Starks would not be safe.

***

It was a mercy, Arya decided to avoid all the bloodshed. Brandon was Magic, too and now that he was King, he would protect Westeros from the Dragon´s Queen wickedness, but the children had to go now.

Arya had to think about how to do it. Mayhaps that same poison she used wh…

***

Pain...then numbing sensation and finally, darkness.

Arya could not move. 

She tried, but found she could not. 

Somebody had recognized he- and apprehended her.

***

Arya soon found out, no matter how hard she tried, escape was beyond her.

Never, even as a child, Arya felt this hopeless and helpless.

_How?_ _How had she been discovered?_

She was wearing a new face. She had successfully created a cover story and given a job in the household. She had been patient- it had taken her a couple of months since Braavos, but she managed to arrive at Volantis in a short time, without being disturbed and...

“A man feared this day would come.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: this is the end of the serious, oh so serious narrative. The cliffhanger is open but it gives an idea of what will happen: Aegon and Daenerys form this alliance with Braavos to end slavery and repopulate Valyria and they lift the curse. Sansa, Arya, Tyrion, Samwell...they are all doomed to fail and not be missed by the population.  
> Brandon would, of course, try to break the Fire Magic and the conflict would end with his defeat. Aegon remains as the balance of the two forces. Daenerys as the bride of fire and the Children of the Forest at the Isle of Faces and Free Folk up North as the Ice Magic defenders.
> 
> Or something of the matter.
> 
> If someone is interested in picking up the serious narrative or use some ideas sprinkled there...feel free.


	3. Part 2- Comedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran Stark, The King in the South, is urged by Tyrion, to save Westeros, once again.
> 
> But what about his dear sister, the Queen in the North?

The man formerly known as Jon Snow, Aegon Targaryen, was at a Crossroads.

“Not that I dislike your idea, Jacquen, but we still have some dragon eggs to hatch and burning Arya at the stake would come in handy, you know what I mean?”

Dany looked at her husband with teary eyes, a proud smile on her face.

Aegon was  _ so _ clever.

“As much as I love the idea of frying that bitch…we also need a reliable nanny.”

Personally, Daenerys had her doubts they would manage the feat of killing Arya Stark. 

Not because she feared Aegon would revert back to Jon and save his cousin at the last minute, no ,but, in Daenery’s experience, Arya Stark was unkillable.

Why did she know that? Well, because Daenerys bloody well- _tried_ to murder the little bitch herself and make it look like a casualty of war, but failed.

Miserably.

Daenerys saw Arya atop her dragon. A small black dot running as fast as light wearing those silly Stark furs.

She would recognize that stupid bint anywhere. 

The dragon queen had been busy burning the possible escape routes in King´s Landing, to make sure no Lannister soldier- and Cersei- came out of that city alive when she decided to take a little detour and cleanse Arya from her many, many sins.

The task was impossible. Arya Stark had some sort of...invisible shield around her? That was the only way Daenerys could describe it. She saw with her own eyes as Arya evaded death by Dragonfire over and over again. The flames never really reached her- but only the people around her? 

Everywhere Arya Stark went, good people died…

Fire...whole buildings falling over her head...a white horse who bite her arse and tried to kill her before being converted by this strange magic and strangely allowed Arya on his back...

No matter how hard death tried to claim Arya Stark, a most powerful, sinister force was there to protect her.

But the procedure...this, Daenerys supposed, could work.

“A man has done the it many times.” Daenerys nodded. She trusted Jacqen Hágar implicitly. Braavos was her most important ally and they had proved their loyalty by offering Arya Stark´s head the moment she set foot at their shores.

***

When news of Arya´s reappearance came, Daenerys and Aegon had been staying at the Braavosi coastline, undetected and unannounced, secretly conducting the last round of negotiations with the Sealord in person.

Since the beginning, Aegon was of mind that Arya could not only be killed but that her death could actually help them further their plans.

“Do not kill her. At least, not yet. I want to see how far she goes. We have eggs needing to be hatched.” 

Daenerys blushed- she was not that far along, but her stomach was already round with Aegon´s seed. 

It gave her joy. Aegon obviously wanted a large family- so did she.

“ You said the House of Black and White is after her, my Lord?”

Braavosi Institutions, while not working under their government´s thumb, were obliged to inform the Sealord of their most important business, especially when involving high ranking members of other countries.

“Indeed, Your Grace. “ The Sealord was a pragmatic man who liked to have his fingers in as many pies as possible- and he had a direct line of communication with the Faceless Men organization.

“Arya Stark was an acolyte, training under the auspices of one of their most talented members. She passed her test. To their eyes, she is one of them, she is no one. Her case is difficult to solve but, they have a proposition if you are interested“

The House of Black and White found distasteful to kill members of their own sect. For those cases, they had developed a ...medical procedure of sorts. 

“ Faceless Men are more knowledgeable about the human body than your average surgeon. They can... _ modify _ a person to such an extent that said person becomes nothing more than an obedient, mindless, hapless servant.”

Aegon gave the thought some consideration.

He was willing to compromise as long as Arya Stark was defeated.

“ Whatever takes that smug, little smile off that bitch´s face will bring me only joy.”

***

Aegon decided that a visit to the girl he had, for a long time, considered to be his sister, would help him chose Arya Stark’s ultimate fate.

She was being held at a dungeon, with only a bucket for company. 

The bucket was full- the room smelled like shit. 

Aegon was too busy covering his nose to notice apprehension in Arya´s face : 

“How could you, Jon? After  _ all,  _ Father did for you!”

Well, that was rich. Ned Stark kept Jon alive, yes, but miserable. The Lord of Winterfell knew only too well the realities of The Wall, and yet he put on a stupid smile on his face, spun the tale of Jon´s bravery for joining the Night´s Watch, washed his hands on the promise made and went to work for the man who not only killed Jon´s father, but gladly accepted the heads of his real sister and brother.

“Yes, how could I, Arya? How could I have even considered killing my true love to save you, that little cow you call sister and that waste of air and space that is Bradon? “

Arya looked at him coldly: 

“ You are the traitor, Jon. You are the one who betrayed us- not the other way around.”

“This Jon you speak of, he is dead. I am Aegon.”

Arya clearly understood the message, losing all her smugness at the admission.

” What will you do to me then,  _ Aegon?” _

“I will give you a choice, which is a courtesy I will not extend to the red haired fish pretending to be a wolf at Winterfell.” Aegon smiled seeing Arya flinch.

He knew the girl was brave. The only way to crack Arya was through the ones she loved.

Her family.

The Starks.

“I am listening.”

“The Faceless Men came with an offer. Jacqen H´agar is still fond of you and convinced me to allow him to modify your mind. He says it is for own good, as you are obviously an unhappy girl lashing out at the world. His words, not mine. All I see is a hateful murderer who would not hesitate in killing my children- Or have I misunderstood your intentions coming all the way to Volantis?”

Arya could have lied. But she didn´t : 

“ You know me better than Jacqen. I had killed children before. I was a child back then, but I guess...I would have made it quick though.”

Aegon spent the next five minutes explaining the procedure to Arya. She seemed to understand the implications- she would become nothing more than a second coming of Hodor- but, to his surprise, she did not immediatly rule out the idea.

“He thinks I would be happy this way? That all my violent tendencies would...disappear, that I would be what I was before?”

Was Arya really considering  _ it _ ? 

This made Aegon feel bad for the girl.

For about two seconds.

“You would revert to a second childhood, return to your more innocent times, yes.”

Arya shrugged.

“Tell Jacqen I am ready.”

***

Daenerys could not abide to be in the presence of Arya for longer than a couple of minutes:

” I am not sure it was a good idea- she looks demented. Will Sansa even recognize her?”

Aegon was also displeased. He wanted Arya to have some sort of redemption arc, and dying to bring a dragon egg back to life seemed the perfect opportunity for the Stark girl to atone.

But she decided otherwise.

“ Better not to think too much about it.” It was disturbing, where there was a superior, smug attitude telling the world Arya Stark was better than anyone, was now a brainless smile. “ I guess it is poetic justice for what Brandon did to Wyllis.”

Daenerys agreed. Had Jon Snow spoke freely about who Brandon Stark truly was- a young man capable of mind rape- she would have not agreed to sacrifice so many of her troops to “save” the useless creep.

“As soon as we are done here at Volantis, we will make our move. North. To Winterfell.”

Aegon had a score to settle.

***

**Winterfell 307 A.C**

“Your Grace, a raven from White Harbour.”

Sansa Stark took the small piece of parchment from Maester Wolkan´s hands expecting it to be a message from Lord Manderley that the shipments expected from King´s Landing had arrived.

The situation in the North had finally reached a breaking point and Sansa had been forced to ask the King in the South for assistance. 

She did not feel bad about placing her brother in such a difficult position because he was not truly her brother anymore- or a man for that matter.

Brandon was magic. He could afford to make his people unhappy.

He had the tools to bring them to heel if need be.

Sana read the message twice over. It was Arya´s handwriting all right- and her seal. Lord Manderly stated the parchment had arrived by ship- a sole galleon with a Stark banner.

“This cannot be true!” 

Then, Sansa heard the screams.

And  _ that _ sound. 

That  _ awfull _ sound of giant wings flying low.

_ Dragons. _

“Maester Wolkan...go to the godswood...read aloud this message before the heart tree...then...send it through raven to King´s Landing.”

Sansa hoped the message would get through Brandon either way. She had no idea how being the Three Eyed Raven really worked, but only her brother could save her now.

Bran would save her.

Right?

"Oh , fuck"

***

**The Red Keep, 307 A.C**

“ Lord Hand, it is time for me to fly.”

Tyrion did not know _ what  _ to say.

Was Brandon Stark as mad as _ they _ said Daenerys Targaryen was?

Bran the Broken laid down on some sort of half breed between a stretcher and a rug and had two of his male servants safely roll him in like a sausage. There were little hooks over the rug´s surface and then the Lord Protector of the Six Kingdoms summoned his ravens, who flocked around him at the Red Keep´s godswood.

Tyrion assumed he knew where Brandon was going and commended the boy for such display of bravery :

“ I am sure you will arrive in time to save Her Grace Queen Sansa´s life, my Lord King. You will be a true hero!”

_ Or die in the attempt.  _ Tyrion admonished himself. He could not have such thoughts in front of this King, this King who could read minds and see the future.

But yes, either way, Tyrion could spin the tale to his advantage. The people would surely come to Brandon´s side, knowing he just left to save his sister, the beautiful Queen Sansa of Winterfell?

_ Or maybe this will make them even more enraged at Brandon _ . Tyrion had to cut the rations served to the populace at King´s Landing again so they could send provisions to The North- not even a region under Brandon´s rule, but an independent kingdom.

By giving this command, Brandon Stark did manage to bring to life the image Tyrion Lannister had in his head: of an unifying Westeros.

Unfortunately, people- from Lords to peasants, from rich merchants to slum dwellers- had united in their disgust against their King, Bran the Senseless.

There was a rebellion brewing in the horizon.

Tyrion knew it, he could feel it in his bones. 

Bronn looked at him and shrugged. Tyrion bit his tongue- it was all his fault. No wonder Bronn´s letters- which he did not write, because he did not know how- to his bannermen demanding they send more grains to the Capital, remained unanswered because so it was the wish of Lord Hightower, their de facto Lord Paramount.

The other Kingdoms took note. 

All replied in the negative.

_ By the Seven, I do hope the little bugger die in The North, lest a faceless, angry, hungry mob will kill us all. _

But the broken voice of His Grace was about to shoot the last of Tyrion´s hopes dead: 

“I am not going to Winterfell, my Lord, but to the God´s Eye, to seek council with our Allies, the Children of the Forest.”

Tyrion´s head was spinning. This was Bran´s solution to all their problems? To leave everything behind and go away in search of mythical creatures who had spent thousands of years, by his own accounts, either as enemies of mankind or as reluctant allies?

It seemed so.

_ And I have nobody to blame but myself. _ Just the night before Tyrion had, most stupidly now in retrospect, urged Bran to be more active in the ruling of the country and to actually help them help  _ him _ keep his Throne for a change and search for a solution for all their problems.

The strange weather that affected all of Westeros.

The discontent Lords who only nominally accepted his rule.

The rumors from the East about dragons and the unclear succession now that elected monarchy had proved to be more divisive than unifying…

“Your concerns were valid, my Lord. It seems I have not found the Dragon, but the Dragon has found me. The Children will help defeat the enemy. As you said, if I die, everything is lost.”

Tyrion could only idiotically nod at His King.

“If you die, everything is lost” was just something Tyrion judged polite to say to any Monarch he had ever served.

It was the kind of thing any intelligent person would not take seriously. 

_ Like Daenerys...who all but scoffed when I told her the same. _

How Bran could be that naive?

Ah, of course, Tyrion reminded himself: His Grace was not a man. He was the Three-Eyed Raven. 

Bran could see the future and the past, read minds, mind rape servants into submission...but he had no sense of humor, no warmth, no real-life experiences he could draw his morals from.

A human being is forged by its experiences, after all.

Even with access to thousands of years of knowledge, somewhere, deep down, Brandon would always be a boy. He did not have the emotional baggage to make reasonable interpretations of the information he had access to because he would always be this boy- his own development as a human being had stopped at an early age making him unable to understand human beings at a deeper, empathetic level.

In other words, Brandon Stark was just a stupid boy with the greatest of powers and a terrible attitude about it.

_ Fuck. _

Tyrion gasped at the realization.

_ Brandon had become Joffrey! _

Instead of violent contempt to those beneath him that characterized Tyrion´s nephew, Brandon Stark’s utter lack of empathy was what was guiding them all to the seven hells.

***

Tyrion would have rolled with laughter if the scene before him was not a perfect metaphor for his life: a man, locked in a useless body, believing he was actually better than he was, trying to fly.

The ravens Brandon had summoned were not enough. They managed to lift the young man´s weight, just for him to be dropped like a piece of wood on the floor not two seconds later.

But His Grace, Tyrion had to give him that, was tenacious.

Soon, another group of ravens flew in and joined Brandon´s congress.

Tyrion watched, flabbergasted, as the evil boy he served flew on the horizon. 

But no before His Grace, once again, dashed Tyrion´s dreams of a better, more Lannister filled, world: “ Oh, by the way, I have an answer to your question regarding your sterility, my Lord.”

Tyrion grew red in the face.

Trust Brandon to have no sense of politeness or courtesy.

“A half-man needs a half-woman to procreate. Seven sons you will have if you heed my advice. Seven dwarves, living on a mountain and working the mines. People will write songs about them. Your name will be forever linked to those of your sons: Doc, Dopey, Bashful, Grumpy, Sneezy, Sleepy and Happy.”

Brandon could not see, for she did not care, but Tyrion was now crying his eyes out.

***

“Well, there goes King Cunt!” Bronn said as he sipped more of his wine, watching as the strange figure of their King disappeared on the skies.

Ser Brienne looked at him with disgust. 

“ What? Do you want to say something righteous and honorable, Lord Commander?”

The stormlander woman face grew harder. She was tired- tired of the Starks and their ingratitude. Tired of Lannisters and their selfish ways. And above all, tired of Bronn.

“You know what? Fuck Honour. Fuck Starks. Fuck Lannisters and especially, FUCK YOU! I am tired of being the only one here- not you, Podrick, you are an angel- to uphold my vows. You are all unworthy of my protection and you will soon die. “

Brienne left the city Gates that same hour, met with the High Septon outside the walls, who quickly signed her discharge from her Kingsguard stating that “it was unholy to serve a King who does not serve the Gods” and sailed the next ship to Tarth, where her old father waited.

Poor Podrick, Tyrion´s Sworn Shield, stayed behind.

***

_flashback-_ **The Isle of Faces, 280 A.C**

Howland Reed woke up with a headache.

He had not come all the way from Greywater Watch- evading the Twins at night, paddling a small skin boat through the Green Fork- for  _ this _ .

“What have you done to me?”

Howland knew what the children had done.

They had taken advantage of his innocence and fucked him all night long!

“Oh, I think you got me with child, How-how.” 

Lord Reed looked at the small framed creature with disgust. Leaf was her name. She said she had come all the way from her cave just to meet him.

Now he knew why.

“Well, I suppose this is what my ancestors did- the price of this alliance.” The cranogmen were said to be half breeds, born out of unions between the children and first men.

Howland Reed had thought such tales to be just that- stories- but now he knew the truth.

“Okay then…” He muttered under his breath as he collected his clothes. “It was a...pleasure, I suppose. But I need to go. Have a great life, girls. You know where to find me…”

Leaf had tears in her eyes. Had she not pleased her Lord Howland? Probably not. She knew he was a goner the moment he left out, running, jumping on his small boat without even looking back.

Leaf was not stupid. Howland lived on a moving castle- he was just being polite when he said they could find him…

Or was he being mean to her?

“No matter. Our little princess will be born very soon.”

***

**Mount Doom, T.A 3019**

Gollum took his chance, jumping all around, until he landed on the invisible Frodo, biting the poor soul´s finger out.

The precious was his! HIS!

And he kept jumping and jumping from happiness until he fell…

But the ring...the ring saved him!

They melted together in a pit of lava, a memory that would scar Gollum even in his next life.

But reborn he was, a little bit different yes, but with the same soul!

It did not matter to him- all he cared about was to have the Ring, which he did, so any price Gollum would be asked to pay, he would do it in a heartbeat.

***

**Isle of Faces, 281 A.C**

“Push, Leaf...our princess is coming...our precious princess!!”

Smeagól did not mind being a girl. It took a while to get used to, but eventually, she did, because she had not been the only one to been granted a second lease on life.

The ring came with her. The Children could not see it, as it was invisible to their eyes, but Smeagól knew it was there and this presence made being a woman more bearable.

And she was loved. At least, for these first moments, she was.

The first Child of the Forest to be born in over a thousand years.

***

**Isle of Faces, 307 A.C**

The leader of the clan waited for the Boy King, the last greenseer to appear in the skies.

They had already prepared him a Throne of Weirwood as a wedding gift, the bride´s gift

The boy was vile- the children knew - but it was the price they would have to pay to atone for past mistakes.

Truly, the leader knew their princess was as foul as the man she would be marrying, but he was past caring.

To be completely honest, the leader was just in for the ride at this point. 

Whatever would come out of such odd union would only serve to entertain the rest of the Children, weary after thousands of years of stagnation.

Life at Isle of faces was...boring. They sang they ate, they sang more, they spoke with each other through the weirwoods, then they sang…

And yet, had the First Men not come, Those who sing the song of the Earth would be content with their limited resources, unsophisticated culture, and abysmal magic.

But the First Men came with all those new ideas like "having fun was good" and " we should definitely keep in touch" and if this did not change their culture, it made their ways look very boring, even to them.

In the end, The Children had to accept the truth: the first men were there to stay!

But the greatest weakness of their Magic was the fact that they had to serve under a Greenseer to access it, otherwise, their already limited powers would fade and they, would die. 

All things considered, the late greenseer of Beyond the Wall had been a fine addition to their numbers. 

He came to them as an old, wise man, which only made things easier.

But this one...the one who made himself King.

The Leader shook his head in disgust.

Brandon was, what humans would call, an untalented, spoiled brat. He was not athletic enough to swing a sword properly, but wasting his time climbing walls to see people make love... _ this _ Bran had a talent for.

The Leader had heard the reports Leaf, the mother of the bride, sent through the wall: the boy was inherently cruel, constantly disregarding other´s struggles and concentrating only on his problems, a selfish little shit who thought the world owed him something just because he did not have the decency to die when he was pushed.

“He sounds quite the charmer.” The leader said to Leaf one night a few years back. “ are you sure you want to give your daughter to him?”

“We both know Smeagol is not exactly right in the head, my friend.” Trust Leaf to go straight to point. Her daughter was, in one word, mad. “It must have been the dimension travel her soul went through when we prayed for a creature capable of waking up what was dormant. She is the only one who can birth the next generation of greenseers.”

And that was the only reason the children kept up with Smeagol and her shenanigans: because the prophecy said she would be their last chance at survival…

...although, many now were secretly praying for Death, because Smeagol was truly a horrible creature to be around.

***

But the Leader had decreed they would not go down without a bang, which meant that Smeagol was there to stay despite all the complaints he had received since the creature´s appearance.

“She will do what we are unable to- and make sure the boy will do what he is unable to.” Privately, the leader thought their princess to be a punishment onto itself: this Brandon Stark, according to Leaf, not only was not that good-looking ( neither his eyes nor his skin had that adorable shade of green the children  _ so _ adored) but he also smelled bad: 

“ He pees on himself all the time! He claims it is because he is paralyzed, but his hands are still working. Seriously, Brandon  _ is _ the worst! I am glad I am not the one to fuck him!”

The Leader agreed. Sex with Brandon Stark, the last greenseer, seemed a terrible proposition. Not that the children were known for their sexual prowess: they were mostly celibate, by their own choice, mainly for two reasons. 

First, as they lived longer than their human counterparts and devoted their lives to the observation and worship of nature, they had naturally low libidos and actually did prefer to just hang out by the creek, taking some Jell-O shots and being goofy than to get all stick and sweaty with another living being.

Second, the children were a one gender species: male and female rolled in one, and neither working that well to begin with.

The result was that, on the rare occasions they wanted to have sex, a child of the forest needed no partner other than her/himself. 

This was not a problem when the children were alone. 

Then, the First Men came and their numbers dwindled.

After the first wars, some clans decided to take human lovers and form alliances through marriages pacts in a compromise of sorts. Their weak magic saw that offspring was possible through a series of convoluted rituals and blood sacrifices to the weirwood trees.

Many men took the bait, but this solution was short lived. Their last ally and Consort, the Warg King, was eventually defetaed by the ancestors of the now Boy King. Even after all those centuries, through the Warg King´s daughter, the Starks had some drops of children´s blood, making reproducing with a member of that House possible. 

When the prophecy was made, the children reach out to the Reeds for help. Howland, the heir, had come, guided by his dreams and promise of wisdom and knowledge, just to be duped into drinking their semen´s tea and spending the next week in an orgy with the children.

At the end of seven days, when Reed finally woke up from his trance, he was a wreck. He had laid with nearly fifty members of three different clans, and from those, three had become pregnant, but only Leaf carried through term, and only that because the last greenseer from beyond the wall had been pushing this powerful soul from another world when he felt that the life in her womb was waning…

Basically, Smeagol´s soul had possessed Leaf´s dying child´s body- something that explained why Leaf did not really love that spiteful creature she called daughter.

***

“Are you sure your sacrifice will be ... _ necessary _ ? I mean, giving your life to protect this Bran boy...he does not seem worth it..” 

Leaf agreed wholeheartedly. Brandon Stark was a despicable boy, born out a despicable mother, who would grow up to do despicable things.

Leaf most certainly did not want to give her life to protect the piece of shit, but there were many other things to consider. Like poor Meera Reed, who had already lost a brother and who would surely die in that cave if the Children did not fight against the Walkers.

Not to mention, Leaf felt a certain responsibility towards the children of the Isle. They were putting up with Smeagol for all those years...the torture would only come to an end if Smeagol was to be married off and go away.

Lastly, Leaf had to concede that, although Smeagol was not someone to be proud of, she was still her daughter:“ Our Lord Greenseer has tried to see many possible outcomes, in vain. It seems that indeed, I must die for my child to live. “

The Leader was quick to offer Leaf his unwavering support: “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for this last selfless act. When the moment does come please, try to act scared and surprised- for the sake of appearances, of course.”

***

More members of his clan joined the Leader at the top of the Royal Mould, where they waited for the imminent arrival of Princess Smeagol husband to be.

Suddenly, they saw something...

“What is that thing over there ?” a child said pointing her claws at several small black dots up in the skies.

The Leader turned his head south and saw the strangest congress of ravens flying towards them, carrying a man upside down, all wrapped in a strange cloth.

The whole thing looked...unstable.Shaky. Unsafe. Risky. Dangerous. 

_ Demented. _

“Yep, that thing is Brandon Stark alright- the prick.”

It was obvious for anybody that those poor ravens were on their last breath. How far they had been flying? Carrying the unnecessary weight of Bran Stark, the worst Three-Eyed Raven the Children had the displeasure of associating themselves with? 

The whole thing was ready to fall from the skies at any given mom---

“Yep, it fell.”

***

“The boy took a tumble and is a miracle he managed to survive, oh Glorious Leader. I am afraid the Three-Eyed Raven will never be the same again after such tragedy...”

_ No shit, Captain Obvious!  _ The leader might not be as well versed in matters of health as the healer was, but he _ hardly _ expected Bran Stark to come unscathed out of falling hundreds of meters midflight. And landing onto a field of cactuses.

_ I mean, he did survive being pushed from a Tower by a sister fucker...but this is ridiculous. _

The Leader sighed. This was going downhill- and very fast. He just wanted to go home and masturbate under the moon- was that asking too much?

Anyway, it was expected from the Leader to show at least a small hint of concern for their would-be ally, so he made the first comment that crossed his mind.

” The human, odious and weak as he is, was pushed through tower when but a child. Not only he survived, but the fell awoke his inner eye I was told. In this event, I must ask: will this more serious fall affect his powers?”

The healer looked positively shocked at the revelation. “ It is as I feared, oh Leader Supreme. A tumble made him powerful...another tumble made him weak. His gifts are waning.”

Oh, but this was bad, _ bad _ news. 

Smeagol would not want Bran if he was not the Powerfull Three Eyed Raven anymore!

The Leader´s head was spinning. This disaster had to be averted at all costs- maybe there was a sort of ritual that would banish Smeagol to her own dimension?

But the healer said the powers were waning- meaning, they were still there?

The Leader could work with that. Marry Smegol off and have them both out of the Isles as soon as possible seemed to be the best of plans.

“When do you think he will lose his gifts? “

“It is not about losing it all at once. He still can access www.weirwood.net. The problem is that his Power is now just a fraction of what it was. Terribly unstable too. There is no way he can control his gifts like we expect a greenseer to. He can still use his Inner Eye, but he will have no way of choosing when, how and where. As his soul is unable to properly anchor the others inside the trees, his eye will only see as far as his soul can go, which is to say: not that far.”

The Leader nodded. 

A pitiful human, this Brandon Stark was.

“Well, let us prepare for the wedding then. Let me know as soon as this .. _.thing _ ...wakes up. I want Smeagol out of the Isle by morn.”

***

Brandon Stark woke with a headache.

“I want some water.” He demanded to the child in attendance in the True Tongue.

The small green creature looked at him, puzzled- Bran´s thick accent made understanding him not that easy.

“ I said...I want WATER!”

The scream must have ticked off the other children, for three more made their appearances. “ Greetings, Your Grace, I am the leader of the Green Hand Clan. I am happy to see you are awake. Now, if you just turn your head to the left, you will see that we have already left you a pitch of water. No need to scream at us.”

“Apology accepted, Leader.” The leader scowled. He had never apologized. This boy was already getting into his nerves.

Not that Brandon noticed. The world, after all, revolved around him. As the favorite child of Catelyn Stark, Bran was used getting things his way and this tendency only gotten worse after the fall, when he became so self-indulgent as to use Hodor for all menial jobs- from cutting his steak in small pieces, to bring him water, to help him pee .

“Now that you are watered, we have a wedding ceremony to attend. Before you ask: afterward there will be a feast, so you will eat. Then we will send the both of you back to King´s Landing. It will take much of our Magic to do so, but it will be worth it.”

This pleased King Bran immensely. “ I am much looking forward to meet my mate, yes. “ The boy poured himself more water- spilling half of it- and, after drinking it, he rubbed his hands. “ You promised my bride would wake my little wolf- I took this as meaning that she would make my cock work again, yes? If what you meant is that she can make Summer come back to life, I am not interested…”

This callous disregard for the wasted life of his pet made the Leader very angry. 

The small creature asked his other attendants to leave him and Brandon Stark alone for a much-needed talk.

***

“I noticed you have not asked about the ravens you forced to carry you all the way here…”

“Nah, I saw them- with my special eye. I know they are dead.”

“Don´t you care? I mean, they served you well, yes? And you foresaw their deaths- you could have avoided it.”

“The ink is dry, as my teacher used to say. If someone has to die, someone has to die. Nothing I can do.”

“The ink is dry means you cannot return to the Past and change it. We are talking about you seeing the future, seeing the death of a congress of ravens, but allowing it to pass because it served your purposes. It never occurred to you that your Powers were to be used to prevent tragedies- not to benefit from them?”

“No, it had never occurred to me. My education was interrupted, as you know. But I am not dumb. I am smart. I know what the ink is dry means, and it means that, once I saw something happening, that is it- it has to happen. Otherwise, what kind of fortune teller am I? If my visions do not come true, then how can I say I can see the Future? My reputation would be in shambles.”

“So, let me get this straight: you saw what would happen if you allowed racism, irrational ambition and petty squabbles to run rampant during the battle at Winterfell, but you decided not to do anything about it because it would destroy your credibility as a Seer? It was not even some sort of masterplan to become King?”

“No, of course not! I always said I would not become a Lord, that politics meant nothing to me, so why would I want to become King? It was a stupid idea a dwarf had and people went along with it for... _ reasons _ . I just went there because I saw it and, as I said, the ink was dry.”

“In other words, you are an idiot.”

“Quite possibly- yes. Now, I want to get married. I cannot wait to get laid.”

***

Smeagol had been dressed in a long gown of leaves, flowers woven into her head, strategically covering the bald spots, giving the illusion she had more and better hair than she actually had.

If Brandon was not pleased by the pitiful figure of his bride, he made no comment. The Leader officiated the ceremony and, when time came to exchange the rings, the true Magic of Princess Smeagol was revealed:

“Myyy...Precious!” She said as she jumped forwards, a previously invisible ring on her hands and quickly disrobed her groom, revealing a flaccid, pitiful, smelly penis, whichshe promptly crowned with the undoubtedly magical artifact, now enlarged and sitting at the base of Brandon Stark´s now functioning cock.

To everyone´s obvious repulsion, Smeagol proceded to consummate the marriage right there. 

“So bright...so beautiful...so precious!” Smeagol said as she jumped up and down Bran´s cock. ” No time to lose, silly !”

The trepid scene offended the Children´s most basic sensibilities. The act itself- sex before an audience- was not a turn-off. From time to time, they would engage in such rituals, for the good of the earth- like they did when they called Howland Reed upon them. 

No, what made some of the attendants ran to the hills was the people involved in the act.

“Well- at least it was fast.” said the leader as Bran Stark uttered strange, unnatural grow, which could only mean he had just ejaculated, like a whole 30 seconds after Smeagol took his virginity.

“ Come back, little children, the show is over- now we feast.”

***

Brandon Stark was very proud of himself.

He was a man now!

They were sitting together at the only table that had been prepared. Most of the guests ate by the fire, which Brandon knew his wife disliked it, so he sought not to bring the subject up.

But oh boy, how well she clearly liked fishes! Brandon could tell because he saw her sharp, brown teeth tearing into a large piece of salmon like it was nothing but cheap parchment. 

“I am glad you are enjoying your fish, my Lady!”

“ We don’t eat hobbit food! We eat nice fisheses, yessss, nice tasty fisheses!”

Brandon had never heard of hobbits before and would have asked his bride for clarification, but decided against it, as it would make him seem less knowledgeable.

The Three Eyed Raven  _ always _ knew best.

Admitting ignorance was admitting he was not as powerfull as he made people believe he was.

***

The next morning, Tyrion Lannister could be seen waiting in front of the heart tree at the Red Keep´s godswood as his King had bid him.

His friend, Lord Bronn, was by his side. 

“ Any news from Winterfell?”

Tyrion shook his head. “ No. And the fact that Good King Bran took off with all our ravens made communication short of impossible.”

Bronn cursed the cripple under his breath. Brandon had summoned his ravens the day before and who knows if and when they would be returned to their owner?

Bronn knew of boys like Brandon Stark all his life, spoiled brats, who had more than enough but always wanted to have it all. 

“His Grace should pay for replacements in case my ravens do not return. They did not belong to him.”

Not that the former sellsword cared about the animals per se, but they were his property and everybody knew Bronn of the Blackwater parted very unwillingly and rarely with the things he called his

Tyrion knew that expression on his friend´s face only too well. “ Remember that good King Bran is the one responsible for your good fortune before complaining about your ravens. I lost mine as well.”

“If I remember correctly, I was given my title when you served as the Dragon Queen´s hand- but we do not speak too much of her anymore, yes? Just of good old King Raven.”

Tyrion could hardly protest. He knew the risks of serving a magical monarch. Brandon Stark was far from mad, but he was not sane either.

The last surviving son of Tywin Lannister knew his destiny was now directly tied to the so-called King Raven and he dreaded it. 

If the rumors were true and Daenerys Targaryen had come again, then the only person who could protect Tyrion was Brandon Stark.

Tyrion was all about survival-  _ his _ survival. Along the way, he became addicted to Power, which made things even more complicated, but his survival was his ultimate goal. He had spun the truth of his motivations at the Dragon Pit, yes, but he firmly believed the Lords and Ladies of Westeros had agreed with his half-assed assessment- that King Raven would be an unifying force due to his life story- because they too understood one could only hope fight Magic with Magic.

There were, of course... rumors about Brandon and the nature of His gifts. 

Tyrion had to concede that, so far, whatever Brandon was doing did not seem so...impressive. 

Now, coming to think of, other than sitting on his ass, making his eyes going blank, and speaking in riddles, Brandon Stark had not done anything impressive.

He surely did not help defeat the Night King- when asked Brandon had no idea what kind of weapon would kill the threat, but he sure as hell convinced everyone that he, the Three-Eyed Raven, had to be defended at any costs because he was…

Some sort of living archive?

Tyrion cussed under his breath.

Brandon Stark stood no chance against Daenerys Targaryen.

Even if he managed to get the help of the Children as he said, they would still lose the war for the hearts of the people.

How could a unattractive, smelly boy, whose only power seemed to be rolling his eyes until you could only see white orbs before he was to make some abstract, mostly salacious proclamations, hoped to compete with the most beautiful woman in the world, who not only walked into a pyre and survived, but also rode the largest dragon since the Black Dread?

Yes, Samwell Tarly wrote a book placing them in a good light and painting Daenerys as the Devil, but for fuck´s sake, this was Westeros! There were only three copies of the book and those who had read it all agreed: it was not a good read.

_ Damm you Tarly, all those pages wasted on long descriptions of foods and drinks and feasts...even I fell asleep reading your ramblings! _

***

It was then that Tyrion witnessed Brandon´s allies magic in action.

“What the fuck is that?” Bronn pointed as the ground beneath the heart tree started to turn. 

Then, a couple of hands- sort of greyish, green hands- emerged, propelling onto surface a hideous, ghastly figure.

Behind the abominable creature, the head of Brandon Stark sprouted out. “ Help me out! Help me !!!”

Ser Podrick quickly rose to the occasion- bless the boy, Tyrion thought- rooting the King out of this most distressing situation and readily placing the ungrateful brat on his chair.

“Why are there not more people to greet their Queen?” the King asked calmly. “ I expected more from you, my Lord Hand.”

“Apologies, Your Grace, but since your sudden departure, and no doubt, due to the rumors, people have been...leaving the Capital.”

If Tyrion expected a reaction from Bran about the upsetting news, he was to be disappointed. “N o matter. We need to organize a proper welcome to the Queen.”

_ Obviously, Lady Stark did a great job by bringing you up, Your Grace _ . Tyrion was growing tired of reminding Brandon the simplest rules of etiquette : yes, you should introduce people upon first meet; no, stop peeing on your pants during dinner time…

“ Your Grace is a pleasure to make your acquaintance “ Tyrion bowed to the devious little creature covered in leaves before him.” May I inquire your name, so it can be heard at the Great Hall this evening?”

“Mustn’t ask us, not it’s business.” the creature snarled as Tyrion looked from Bron to Podrick and back. “Gollum, gollum”

Looking at Bran, Bronn asked :“Is her name... _Gollum_?” 

“No, her name is Smeagol. Gollum is only a word in her Mother Tongue. She tends to say it a lot, the dear.”

“Master should be resting. Master needs to keep up his strength. My precious.”

Bran looked at the creature with something akin to tenderness, much to Tyrion´s shock. Not that the dwarf would judge his King for his...tastes. The woman was truly ugly, but maybe she made up in bed?

Tyrion banished the awful images that came into his mind, of Bran and Smeagol cuddling.

The marriage was one of necessity, for sure.

_ Or was it? _

“See how sweet she can be, your new Queen? Please, jump on my lap, sweetheart- Ser Podrick surely will not complain.”

Queen Smeagol took her groom up on his offer and sat- on his crotch. She then started to rub her bottom on it, until even Tyrion could notice a slight, humble bulge forming on Brandon´s private area. 

“You see? She is the Princess who was Promised.” Brandon said as he proudly pointed at a small wet stain forming where under Smeagol´s fat ass.

Tyrion did not know what to say about  _ this _ . 

To him, Queen Smeagol seemed more like The Monster who should be avoided.

To each his own, he supposed.

Midway to the Small Council chambers, Bran groaned as Queen Smeagol, undisturbed, continued in her efforts.

“I am a man now!” he declared proudly.

***

“Your Grace, have you managed to speak with your sister? Unfortunately, we ran out of ravens.”

“I know, they are all dead. As Sansa will soon be. But not to worry: she is beautiful. Did I tell you how I was able to see her on her wedding night?”

“Your Grace, let´s concentrate on the issue at hand: although The North is an independent Kingdom, Sansa Stark is still your sister. If you allow an attack upon her to go without a reaction, it will make you look weak.”

“Well, I never liked Sansa that much- and I am not the only one. I mean, she sure has fans, something I can hardly claim for myself, but frankly, people will get over her. Except for that mediocre man called Dan who keeps writing to her, about her and for her, Sansa will not be missed- and you know, especially now that I am a manly man, I resent her comments about my masculinity during the Dragon Pit meeting. I will declare myself her heir, claim The North and rule from there- or from the Isle of Faces. Not enough weirwood down south to keep my fire burning, if you know what I mean?”

“No, Your Grace...I do _ not _ know what you mean, but I do know that moving the Capital to Winterfell will not work. But Isle of Faces you said?...have you seen it?”

“It is all in my head, yes. A Weirwood Throne at the Godswood. Smeagol swimming and eating her fishes. Yes, I can see it.”

“Fine. You can see it. We move to the Isle- then what? The Dragon Queen, if the rumors are true., will come. She is waiting for us. How can we fight her?”

“Fetch me a chair stretcher...and the Fat Maester.”

***

**Winterfell, 307 A.C**

The first time Sansa saw Arya again after all those years was when Jon- no, Aegon- had visited in the dungeons.

“Will it make easier for you, to decided, if you see Arya?”

Sansa answered that yes, it would. She still kept hope that the name Stark would not disappear, if only Arya would be persuaded to marry and bear children. 

Sansa was smart. She had no illusions she would escape from this mess alive.

But when she saw Arya….or what she had become, all her hopes were dashed.

“Shansha...sistah!” the obviously lackwitted woman said as she placed her hands around Sansa´s waist, in a very tight, very warm hug, completely unlike the cold assassin her sister had become.

The personality was not the only thing that changed. Arya had...gained weight? And she was smiling- a toothless, demented smile.

The same smile Hodor had.

“What have you done to her?”

Aegon shrugged. “ Nothing, as a matter of fact. Arya was a deserter of the House of Black and White and while they were willing to allow her to live as long ash she stayed out of their business, the Arya of old thought of herself as invisible and tried to stick her hands right into our pie.”

Sansa´s stomach turned at the mention of pies. 

“They did something to her. They took out her more violent tendencies, but with that, also part of her intelligence. “ Aegon paused. “ She was given a choice and she choose this.”

“House Stark is no more then. “ the young woman said dejectedly. “Jon... _why_? Why have you betrayed us, after what we all have done for you?”

Oh, Aegon was waiting for this. Of course, Sansa would see the situation very differently. It would never occur to her how badly she had behaved, how unearned her victory was

Sansa was Cately Tully´s daughter through and through.

“Pray tell me, what exactly have you done for me?”

“Me personally? I allowed you to live peacefully up North. I covered for your little excursions...and I would even have pardoned you if you had really deserted to live with that man, that wildling- Dortmund? You looked good together”

Sansa was not as closed-minded as the rest of the northerners. That the last she heard of him before he came from Essos was that he had married a man in a queer wildling ceremony, and, understanding as she was, Sansa silently wished her half brother the best, if that was the kind of life he wanted for himself.

“Wait a minute…” Aegon was incredulous. Was Sansa suggesting what he think she was? “Do you really think I killed the most beautiful woman in the world because I was in love with Tormund, of all people?

Sansa shrugged. “What else you wanted me to think? You did nothing to make her feel welcomed here and instead, you hung out with Tormund, who was praising you for basically being a male? I even heard you allowed a boy to spit on her? You were clearly sending mixed messages- do not blame _me_.

Aegon laughed. At least, he thought, he could tell Daenerys the story and make her laugh.

"What about Winterfell?" Sansa finally asked. " and The North?"

“Winterfell will stand, as a testament to the once Great House of Stark.” Sansa nodded as Aegon said it. The least she could do now in defeat was to make sure the souls of the Stark Kings of old would continue to rest under those same walls.

“Look at the bright side. With you dead, you will stop dishonoring your Lord Father. Say what you will about Ned Stark, but not even after he lost half his family, he gave up his decency, something we can all agree you have bargained with since you chose Lord Baelish as a tutor.”

“I did not choose him. He was the one who saved me. He used me too, but he saved me.”

Aegon, clearly unimpressed, just chuckled. “ Sure, Jan.”

“Sansa “ the young woman replied. “ My name is Sansa Stark and I will die as the last Queen of The North.”

“Well, if that idea brings you comfort.” 

Aegon stopped. 

This was not fun anymore. 

Taunting Sansa was a drag.

She was boring as fuck.

“Enough with this. Let´s have you killed so I can get the hell out of this miserable wasteland .“ 

Aegon snapped his fingers and four guards stepped forward to drag Sansa to the Godwood.

The subjugated members of Sansa´s household were already waiting.

Daenerys too.

“I decided against holding a trial, after all,” Aegon announced to his audience and Sansa gasped. 

“Dragonfire?”

Aegon replied in the negative. Daenerys could not say she was completely surprised by her husband´s decision of spending as little time as possible in Winterfell.

Now that he was truly a dragon, he could see the place as what it was: a cold, ice tomb.

“Nah, since all of sudden Sansa started seeing herself as a daughter of the North, I think she should be executed before her Old Gods.” Sansa assumed this meant Aegon was to chop off her head like Father used to, but she was in for another surprise:

“The Weirwood will kill her.”

Sansa did not understand what this meant.

She asked though, but Aegon, more interested in testing his idea and trying the logistics to his inspiration, offered no answer.

Daenerys was also not in the mood to deal with the redheaded: “ Remember how I tried to be friends with you? “

Sansa did remember.

Oh, how strong Sansa felt, by being mean to this woman, this Queen who had come to her, who had tried to talk to her?

Not even when she humiliated her uncle, declared her brother unfit to the King in the North, stood up at the Dragon Pit and said, to all there to hear, that the North would be an independent kingdom, had Sansa Stark felt more like herself than when she spurned Daenerys offer of friendship.

In Sansa´s head, there was only one place for a woman to rule, and it was hers.

It never occurred to her that not all women were Cersei's, monsters of resentment, or Margaerys sleeping their way to the top, or even Arya, who was more than willing, as it happened, to play second fiddle to the alpha bitch, happily declaring Sansa to be the “ smartest person alive.” 

Sansa´s tongue was filled with the poison of her own making.

She would not apologize- not now, nor ever.

She was tired. Hungry. Thirsty. 

She had spent 12 long hours without eating lemon cakes!

Sansa tried to gather all her strength to reply, but the words came weakly, “ I have no regrets.”

As it happened, Daenerys did not hear it. “ Apologies, but I did not hear…”

Sansa overcame with the weight of her impending execution, and no doubt distressed by the physical ordeal they had been placed through- half a day spent on dungeon- opened her mouth to reply.

She bit her tongue, unaccustomed that she was to show her anger, and, to all there to hear, the last words of Sansa Stark were. 

"NO RAGRATS!!!”

Sansa looked positively ashamed at her tongue slip.

Everybody stopped dead on their tracks, looking at her face growing red with embarrassment.

Arya did not help matters, by jumping up and down and singing : 

“ No ragrats….no ragrats….no ragrats!!”

Everybody started laughing.

***

When the large, thousands of years old weirwood finally fell on Sansa´s head, smashing her immediately, death did not seem to be such a bad idea anymore.

Sansa was glad. 

The laughter stopped

***

Well, as it turned out, the laughter never stopped.

Sansa was buried where the Weirwood tree was.

Queen Daenerys herself paid for the tombstone.

“No Ragrats”


	4. The end!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion and Samwell first flight is not what they expected-but they flew anyway.
> 
> Brandon and Smeagol´s' honeymoon is over.

When the dreaded day finally came- dragons coming over to demand satisfaction- instead of fear and anger, Tyrion Lannister felt relief.

Whatever tortures Jon and Daenerys would make him suffer, it could not possibly be worse than spending the last two weeks in the company of Queen Smeagol.

The creature would bark on Tyrion´s chambers, interrupting his much-needed sleep, with great amounts of demented excitement: “  Wake up. Wake up. Wake up, sleepies. We must go, yeeees, we must go at once.”

When this happened the first time, Tyrion still managed to feign respect for the creature when he politely asked: “Where to, Your Grace?”

“Yes. There’s a path and some stairs, and then… a tunnel.”

_ The ugly bint is utterly oblivious. “ _ No, your Grace, I do not mean how we will go, but rather where must we go with such a hurry?”

“all we wished was to catch fish…So juicy sweet!”

And Tyrion was dragged in the first hours of the morning by Smeagol to the disgusting waters of Blackwater Bay, where the creature rid itself of its clothes and jumped naked in the river where feces, dead animals and rats all swam together, emerging from the deep filthy with a green fish in its mouth.

When they finally returned to the sacred of the Red Keep, Tyrion approached King Bran, who was conversing with Grandmaster Tarly, and when the fat man excused himself to go and work on this secret project, the Hand of the King asked, without preamble: 

“ Your Grace, the Queen Smeagol woke me up today in a most distressing manner, demanding I take her to the polluted waters of the Blackwater, where she swam with the filthy and ate at least three unhealthy looking fishes she managed to retrieve from the bottom of the river. Now, while I would be more than glad to accompany Her Grace in leisurely pursuits, this behavior is most unbecoming.”

The boy-king´s answer should not have shocked Tyrion- but it did: “ I had a long, productive conversation with Her Grace and we both agreed your new role should be to serve her as her primary companion when I am too busy ruling. You will, of course, sometimes be free to attend Small Council meetings, but your first concern, from now on, is not the realm, but Smeagol.”

“With all due respect, Your Gr---”

“SILENCE!” King Bran shouted, interrupting a visibly upset Tyrion. “ You will do as I say, or else! I have much work to do and I do not need your counsel at this time since you have no knowledge or talent for Magic. Besides, Smeagol says you remind her of some creatures she calls hobbitses and she seems to be very fond of them.”

Tyrion Lannister returned to his chambers where he wept.

***

So when Daenerys and Jon Snow came, Tyrion was not only prepared to die, but he was very happy about it. 

“ Oh...I hope death by fire. The Tarlys did not even suffer- they were pulverized in an instant!” Tyrion told Bronn as they stood at the walls, waiting for the negotiations to be initiated.

“Welcome to Raven's Landing.” King Bran announced in his usual monotone. “ How can I be of any assistance?”

It was the man formerly known as Jon Snow who replied : “For now, we want three things. First, we demand a sacred vow that you will allow the civilians freedom to leave the walls at any time; secondly, we demand the delivery of Lord Tyrion Lannister so that he can be judged for crimes against mankind and thirdly, we demand the so-called, self-proclaimed, false Maester Tarly and all copies of his books to be given to us as a shown of goodwill. Do this and I swear we will leave you in peace.”

At this, the coward reachman started to shake. “ Please, Your Grace...you cannot!”

Bran shrugged: “ Why not, Grandmaster Tarly? I say the deal is a good, fair one. You already served your purpose. You were exactly where I needed you to be and now, I need you to be somewhere else.”

Tarly was now on his knees, crying and begging. “ Please, Your Grace! I ca-can help you more...that of- other idea you had...I help…”

Tyrion moved from attention from his impending doom to the conversation taking place before him.  _ Mayhaps this information will serve me well...another secret project? _

The former Hand of the King noticed that Brandon´s face, always so cold, so impassible, slightly reddened at the mention of this idea. “ Your help is not needed, nor is appreciated. Cease your sniveling and go down with dignity, or I will make you suffer.”

“No---no---you cannot be serious---you ar”

Tyrion then realized- admittedly, a bit too late- that King Bran they all knew and secretly hated had changed since his trip to the Isle of Faces.

Gone was the boy who smelled like a mixture of wet socks and charred wood, who was fond of saying cryptical nonsense that sounded deep, who refused to do any meaningful work other than staring at a weirwood tree…

No, this was a new Bran Stark. Not only did he lose his maidenhead to an ugly humanoid, semi-magical creature, but he also became one.

The slightly less cruel northern version of Joffrey Waters became an all-powerful, menacing, infernal King, the Bloodstone Emperor came again!

“Cousin, as a token of my affection for you, I will sweeten the deal: I offer you not only Tarly and his useless, boring books, but also his useless, boring family. Surely you will appreciate spending time with the necromancer´s spawn?”

Tyrion could see, even from distance, Daenerys and Jon confused looks.

The Dragon Queen quickly regained her composure, replying shortly after the proposal was made: “We are glad to accept your offer, Brandon of House Stark.” 

***

“Did you know that he named the boy Jon?”

Aegon had just given orders to place the false Maester and his family in the most comfortable type of cells they had at Dragonstone- which was not to say much: 

“ Aye...I suppose he felt like he was honoring his friend. An empty gesture. If Samwell really felt anything akin to real friendship he would have returned to The Wall. Gilly would not have minded. But he is a coward and he knows it. Always stealing from the kitchens, never lost any weight, never shared his last loaf of bread with anyone...he had always been a rather selfish pig.”

Daenerys spent the last hour reading the book Tarly helped write. It was a horrible experience. She had been curious to read the clumsy attempts at destroying her character. She foolishly thought that it could be fun, really, like watching someone slipping through a cucumber peel? 

Oh, how wrong Daenerys was.

The book was unreadable. Boring really. The pacing was off. Many pages devoted to stupid jokes about cocks, gratuitous descriptions of sex workers’ activities, not to mention dozens of pages dedicated to Samwell Tarly´s true love: food.

Daenerys had to put the book down and run to the chamber pot in order to puke.  _ Twice. _

“Ugh...is that because of the babe...or is due to Tarly´s poor grammar?”

***

A week was all it took for Samwell Tarly to break down. 

“Stop torturing me!!! PLEASE!!! JON...please...stop the madness!”

Gilly looked at her common-law husband in disbelief. “What do you mean? I know I have grown accustomed to all the luxury, but I do remember how it was before. This cell even has a window...we do not have beds, but we have mattresses...and the food they are serving is go…”

“I know! The food is awful! SIMPLY AWFUL...and is never enough!”

Little Sam´s stomach grumbled: “ You just gave us two slices of the bread and ate the rest, Father. Why do you have to complain ?”

“Oh, shut your fucking mouth, your ingrateful bastard!” Gilly started crying at this anger explosion. It was a long time coming for Samwell. He had never liked Gilly's son-brother. Actually, he hated the reminder of Craster and resented the attention Gilly bestowed upon the slow-witted boy. At some point during their time at the Watch, Samwell had subtly tried to convince Jon to claim the boy as a hostage, but the Lord Commander did not take the hint.

“Why are you being so cruel, dad?” 

“I am sorry---” Samwell said even though he did not mean it, afraid Gilly would deny him some love times. “ I cannot think properly when I am not well-fed.”

Little did Samwell know, but this would be his last meal. “ Get up and come, false Maester Tarly! Time for you to meet your maker!”

“Noooo---” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “ Don´t want to die! I will do anything- please!”

Aegon looked at him with cold, menacing eyes. “You have literally nothing we need.”

Four guards were needed to move Samwell out of the cell, as he grabbed onto the bars and would not let go. Aegon sighed- he did not want to execute his former friend in front of his family…

But it would be very hard to carry the overweight man to the execution grounds and Aegon doubted that Samwell would start acting like a man at this point.

Luckily, he had another idea: “Gilly, you and your boys will be escorted out. You may sail north, if you will, and start over there. I believe your time in King's Landing is over.”

Daenerys had suggested giving Gilly some gold and more choices, but Aegon disagreed: “ She has done nothing against us, but also nothing for us. She just followed her slob around, provided some comment here and there and that is it. Gilly will manage.”

There were tears, of course. Aegon said nothing, giving the family some time, silently growing impatient.

He wanted to roast his “friend”: “ Fine, now go before I have a change of heart.”   
  


Gilly needed not be told twice.

Aegon ordered Samwell to be gagged. “ Your voice angers me so”, he said as a way of explanation, but even then the false maester tried to have the last word, and from the smelly piece of cloth used to cover his mouth, will form noises coming out.

  
  


“Are you not getting tired of this, Samwell?”

It was, obviously, a rhetorical question. No, Samwell would never tire. Although he tended to stutter when nervous, he liked the sound of his own voice well too much, possibly because he considered it to be the voice of reason, him being, you know, “ a learned man”

Nevermind Samwell escaped learning like the plague that one time he was actually given entrance and he only got the appointment of a lifetime because it served a very clear political purpose, not having anything to do with his actual skills- Samwell Tarly would always see himself as this mild mannered, good intentioned scholar whose contributions to the world were as big as his growing belly.

Aegon was disgusted. “ First in battle- the words of your house. You are about to honour them, one last time.”

Yes, the war was far from over- Brandon had to be destroyed.

***

Unable to tap into his own powers, but emboldened by finally taking the first steps into adulthood, Brandon Stark decided not to wait any longer and to attack his opponents when they least expected.

“They think I am a true Stark, mindful of my words. '' The young man told his bride as they bathed in goat's milk, Smeagol having a hard time not to fall asleep as her husband continued to speak about his evil plans. “ but I have my own ideas. I agreed to let the fatso go since I had no more use for him. I had just tested the weapon we were working on. The Dragons will not stand a chance!”

It took a lot of his Power, but Brandon summoned enough ravens to fly him around again. They crossed the skies late at night, undetected, arriving on Dragonstone the next morning. 

“HA! Take this shit, losers!” Brandon screamed, loading one by one the bullets he had managed to carry on his small, moveable cannon, and releasing them all on his target: Drogon, who was peacefully sleeping at the shores.

Since the beast did not move one inch, Brandon assumed he had managed to slay the dragon, the greatest of all feats of strength a man could be capable of.

Brandon felt like a true hero- but he was just an idiotic boy who did not know enough of the ways of war.

“ Somebody came and threw some rocks on Dragon's wings…” Daenerys told Aegon as they broke their fasts later that same day. “ We thought it was just the children playing games, but the fishermen told my guards it was a flying chair that came within the clouds- a small, black dot, holding a metal weapon and screaming something about us being losers…”

“Brandon! “ Aegon exclaimed, shaking his head in exasperation. “ the little fucker is truly someone out of this world, a stranger really.”

It did not take long for them to decide to move, but that they counted it was the boy´s undeniable stupidity that made him move against them, not anything future seeing related slightly bothered Daenerys. “ Maybe he saw something and just came here to force our hand- it could be a trap.”

“Nah- Brandon is dumb. Has always been. A good boy, yes, loyal and good-hearted, but as dumb as rocks. And very clumsy. Chances are he considered his mission to be a success, not bothering to check whether he had killed Dragon or not, even forgetting we have other dragons…”

They sent their host to encircle the walls of KIng's Landing, founding in the area thousands of city dwellers refugees making camp, including poor Podrick Payne. “ I could not stomach it anymore,” he told Aegon plainly, resigned to whatever fate was in line for him.

“You are a good man, but you stayed far too long by his side for us to completely trust you.” 

Podrick let out a sad sigh: “ I know…”

“Go home, Ser Podrick.” Daenerys urged the young man. “ Go home and stay there. You have our promise we will not bother you.”

Podrick was taken to the barracks, where he was watered and fed, and they gave him a horse, explaining to Aegon he only grabbed his sword and a pouch of gold on his way out. “ I am afraid I ran away, too scared to face --- _ them _ . “

But the admittance to a single, last act of cowardice was, in this particular instance, understandable.

Who would want to see  _ those _ faces?

Aegon knew he wouldn't 

“Nobody is blaming you, Ser .”

***

“Please, Your Grace- I know you have a gentle heart!”

Daenerys scoffed. “ Gentle heart, you say? But what about what I do to evil men- have you forgotten? Or do you think you are not evil?”

Tyrion had thought this many times over. He was not evil.  _ No, no _ . He knew that because he had known many evil people and he was nowhere near them.

Quickly, Tyrion went through the list of names of utterly garbage people that had crossed his path_ and had to admit they were all either directly related to him, or worked under his family´s protection.

Tywin Lannister, his father. The old lion of the Rock, responsible for so many massacres from the Westerlands to Crownlands and mastermind of the Red Wedding.

Cersei Lannister, his sister. The whore Queen, a monster of ambition who thought killing all her enemies with wildfire was not only the solution to all her problems, but it would also make for a pleasant view to watch at her balcony.

The Mountain, his father's favorite dog, Ser Armory Lorch, his father´s second-favorite dog…

Tyrion had to concede the point. “ Fine...I might be an evil man, but you burnt the city. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to act?”

“Take your share of the blame, for starters. Recognize the love you had for your sister and brother did not erase their own cruel acts. Admit Justice needed to be served. Give impartial, good advice to your employer. Stay true to your word when you were given a final chance. Offer your assistance when…”   
  


“  _ Fine. _ ” Tyrion said loudly, eyes cast down. “ Please, just ...make it quick.”   
  


“ I am afraid I cannot promise you that, Lord Tyrion.” 

A group of guards came in carrying the false Maester with them. Tyrion watched as they tied the fat man on a big metal ball that had been loaded to a giant catapult.

“I see you understand now. I have never done this before, so I cannot tell if this way is actually quick or not. Assuming you hit the target at the right speed, you would be crushed and die an instant death...but...there is always the other option.”

***   
Although more interested in the great mysteries of time and matter, and in pursuing his now shattered connections to the weirwood shared memory, Brandon Stark had to concede his people had abandoned him when he woke up one morning to find the castle deserted.

“Not to worry, my precious wife- we got all those fishes you brought us from your last excursion. Would you cook it for us, lovely?”

'Sméagol always helps, if they ask - if they ask nicely.' the creature answered from behind the door- Princess Precious enjoyed playing hide and seek.

Brandon asked nicely- or thought he did- but he was served raw fish that looked not so fresh anymore.

But since he did not want to offend his wife and jeopardize their morning fuck, Brandon decided to take a bite, and as he did sink his teeth into the smelly, greenish meat, a loud noise- a crack- scared him.

Brandon looked at the wall, where a big hole had been opened by a giant metal projectile.

For a flash of a second, he went blank.

“ “NO! That would kill us! Kill us!”Smeagol screamed when she saw the damage the ball had done to the structure, only to forget about her own fears a moment later and start doing a little dance while happily singing. 

“Where would you be without me?! Gollum! Gollum! I saved us! It was me. We survived because of me!”

Brandon jerked his head to the left, where another of those cracking sounds came in, only to find a second projectile had been sent their way, but this time there was a big pile of blood forming underneath it.

By the time the third ball hit the room, two more people had joined them.

“You broke your word, Brandon” Aegon menacingly said. “ You must learn your actions have consequences!”

“I don't think you are one to talk, Jon.” Brandon then pointed at the obviously pregnant Daenerys. “ You killed this one there and look at the both of you! All forgotten, all forgiven! Why should I be the one judged and convicted?”

“You would not understand if i was to explain it to you, so I won´t, but I do admit it is not as simple as you make it sound. I am still making amends for what I have done.”

“And nothing has been forgotten, really.” Daenerys added but in her voice there is not a hint of bitterness. “ It is what it is and we can only move forward- and moving forward means putting you and your bride down.”

“ I will not allow it. Smeagol has done nothing wrong. Yes, she might be ugly. Yes, she might be a foul mouthed, stinky, disgrace of a princess, but she is mine!”

Brandon did not notice, but his words deeply impacted Smeagol, who was now sobbing: “Cruel man hurts us. Master tricks us…”

“ and you are the one capable of killing a beautiful woman. I always liked to see beautiful woman fucking. That is why I went to see the evil Queen Cersei. I could tell for the sounds she was having fun, but I was confused to see her with her brother...then I had the opportunity to watch many others when I acquired my third eye. Since I had seen what brothers could do to sisters, I watched Sansa when she got married- a beautiful night. And then, when I got on with Smeagol…”

Both Daenerys and Aegon held their breaths. Brandon was too busy with his monologue to see that Smeagolá's face had gone from sadness to deranged bloodthirst- whatever he was about to say, he had to be careful.

But he was not. “ ...and I saw the absolute horror she was, I confess I had my doubts, but she has this---”

““Master betrayed us! Wicked, tricksy, false. We ought to wring his filthy little neck. Kill him! Kill him! The creature then lunged at Brandon, landing on his lap, where she proceeded to stab the boy with a fish bone.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaargh….aii...aiii...stop….aii...aaaargh” Brandon wailed as the attack continued, his blood spurting out of his body as the stabs progressed through his torso.

But he still breathed- he was still alive. And he fought back, managing to finally push Smeagol out of his lap. The Princess of the Forest, however, was far from done with her husband- and she was about to land the final blow:

_ “And then we took the precious, “ she screamed, her hands inside Brandon´s pants, grabbing his flaccid penis, where a ring had been placed at the lower end. … “and we are the masters!” _

Only then, without the powerful protection of the One Ring, the boy formerly known as Brandon Stark died- and the world breathed in relief.

Convulsing on the floor, lied the wasted figure of the strange creature, Smeagol. 

On her finger, a ring flashed a strange light one, two, three times.

"Precious" the poor thing said before disappearing in the air, as if she had never been there in the first place.

***

Epilogue

The first thing to go was that ridiculous name, Raven´s Landing. There were some discussions as to what they should call the Capital, but it seemed a waste of time and effort in Daenerys' view, so they stuck with the name everybody was used to, which was King's Landing.

The new member of their family, another girl, was born soon after the retaking of the city and named Laena Targaryen, a nod to Aegonßs mother who had died in childbirth as so many others had.

There was a lot to be done and undone. The Redwyne granddaughter of Lady Olenna. who had wed one of the ladies' many nephews, was the ruling force behind High Garden and one of the Queen´s strongest allies. Dorne had Prince Manfrey Martell, the former castellan of Sunspear and the Westerlands confirmed a distant cousin of Tyrion as their new Lord Paramount. 

As for the other kingdoms, they remained in the same hands they had been. Daenerys wishes tended towards changing the system as a whole, but she knew it would take centuries of growth for Westeros to be able to pursue elected forms of governments- at this point, it would only mean rigged elections and the constant changing in leadership would only bring confusion and more infighting.

But the years passed and their children grew. Laena was eventually granted Winterfell and she took the name Stark as a concession to her subjects. Visenya and Jahaerys married each other as a political compromise. They were first and foremost, brother and sister, and after the birth of their second child, a boy they named Rhaegar, they decided they had done their duties and went to spend the rest of their lives as the good friends they were.

For over ten years, Aegon and Daenerys divided their time between King's Landing and Valyria, but after their heirs married, they abdicated their Crowns and returned to thé place where it all started, a blessed land where no ravens were allowed.

***

**Somewhere in the Gods´Eye**

The Children of the Forest were shacking their little asses all night long. " Princess Precious did it! She saved us all!"

Yes, the prophecy had been fulfilled, but not as anyone had expected. As it turned out, the greatest threat to the Children were not mankind, but their own greenseers!

Who would have thought that transferring all their magic force to one religious figure, and granting said figure all access to all their knowledge, as well as granting said figure with eternal Power to rule them all would be a bad idea?

Granted, without a greenseer, the children of the forest had to rely on their own smarts and strengths to defend themselves. But they were more than ready to do it, and adamant about keeping their word to the dragons, and be left to their own devices among the infinity of their weirwood forest, where they could sing the song of Earth to the end of times- and they owed this happiness to the one and only Smeagol, the saviour of Ice and Fire.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
